


Throne of Cards

by LaufeyOfThay



Series: Cards Trilogy [3]
Category: Baldur's Gate
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:41:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 35
Words: 171,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29290014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaufeyOfThay/pseuds/LaufeyOfThay
Summary: The final part of the Cards Trilogy. It is still a work in progress, though I am writing the later parts currently. I will start out with more frequent posting and then portion it out eventually.Once Jon Irenicus had been defeated, everything seemed just fine - for about five minutes. But a Bhaalspawn's work is never done, and as if it wasn't enough with the looming threat of her more powerful siblings, Zaerini and Edwin also have to deal with an emergency closer to home...
Relationships: Female Charname/Edwin Odesseiron
Series: Cards Trilogy [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1777177
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	1. Prologue of Players and Pawns

**Throne of Cards 1 – Prologue of Players and Pawns**

_When you play the games of the gods, best be prepared to lose more than a hand._

_Excerpt from ’Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

As the meeting proceeded with the nauseatingly slow pace of an inebriated slug, Illasera thought about how best to kill each one of her companions, should it come to that. It was very likely that it would, at some point. Theirs was an alliance of convenience, and for now it was to her advantage to cooperate, but one or more of them might well turn on her later on. She intended to be well prepared for that. 

The giant, he seemed all bluster and muscles, but he was not entirely stupid. He had a secret, a protective magic. It would be necessary to find a way around that. Even so, he was really a distraction, not the mighty general he styled himself as. Let him throw himself against the wall of the city he was besieging, by all means. He was doing what he was supposed to, and that was likely enough to keep him out of mischief for now. 

The Drow was in many ways different from the giant. She was a subtle one, fond of illusions and tricks. A defensive player, one who would fortify herself and only strike from what she perceived as a secure position. _But she puts too much faith in her minions_ , Illasera thought. _She thinks of them as her strength, but they are also her vulnerability. Slaying them would weaken her significantly. Or else I might take advantage of them in order to get close to her. Yes, that might work._

The huntress smiled inside the hood of her dark cloak, a small and fond smile. The Drow would be a difficult prey to take down, but difficult prey was the best. The dragon would be even better. Another defensive player, but this one had more strength in himself. Or so it would seem at first glance. _He is powerful, yes, but it would only take one arrow in the right spot. And he is so easily riled over his little…weakness. He plays games, trying to recreate himself. It would be easy to distract him._

The monk, there was a puzzle. That one was anything but easily riled. Illasera rather thought the man might have icewater in his veins instead of blood. She did not understand him, and that bothered her. Superficially he seemed to go along with every order, he seemed not to care at all about strengthening his own position, but that couldn’t be right. _He wants something. He makes no move to seize more power than the others, but he wants something._

”Our plans are proceeding nicely,” said the last person present, a tall woman with cold eyes. ”Most of the weaker Spawn are exactly where we want them to be, but there are a few stragglers. Illasera, there is one I want you to find.”

Illasera straightened up, focusing all of her attention on the speaker. A hunt. Yes. Things had been slow as of late, and a hunt was exactly what she needed. If it was powerful prey, then so much the better. ”Who?” She asked. 

The tall woman smiled. ”Gorion’s ward has finally been located. There is one other, weaker Spawn with her. They need to be eliminated, as swiftly as possible. Will you do this?”

Illasera smiled, her fingers reaching out to caress the hilt of her long hunting dagger. ”Tell me where to find them.” 

-*-

Elsewhere, another woman paced back and forth, back and forth. Her private garden was normally a serene haven, a place where she could feel truly at peace. Tonight neither flowers nor songbirds could distract her, however.   
_It will work. The plan is sound, and it will achieve what is necessary. My people…all people…will be kept safe. The agents of chaos will be pulled down. And then…then…_

She pushed the thought aside. That was for later, for much later. She could not afford to let herself get distracted, not when there was so much work to do. She needed to focus, to force her determination into the necessary channels, like a true daughter of Rasheman. 

_Complete control._

She nodded as she felt the network shimmer and tremble around her. Her agents, all of them, working in perfect accord, supported by her power. Over such a long distance the assistance she could render was limited in terms of raw power, but precision was of equal value. The net was trembling, yes, there. 

_As expected._

She reached towards the threads, tweaking them, alerting her agents. They would need to perform perfectly if they were to succeed. She directed them to close in, converging on the point where the net had been activated, and she felt them obey without hesitation. 

_As it should be._

Pain, flashing through her mind, raw and real. She flinched, but forced herself to keep steady, to keep sending orders through the web she had created. She was the centre, she must not falter. She had known this would be dangerous, but it was necessary. 

_Focus your attacks, all of you. He will not be able to avoid you all. Do it, now. Cut off any escape routes. Move swiftly._

A short while later a sending shimmered into life in the air before her, forming itself into the face and form of one of her chosen few. The illusionary woman bowed deeply before the woman in the garden.   
”Oluanna,” She said. ”It is accomplished.”

”I sensed deaths,” The woman in the garden said, her heart heavy. The sacrifice had been necessary, but it was regrettable. ”How many?”

”Four, Oluanna. One grievously wounded.”

”And our wayward wanderer?”

”Alive, if barely. We can prepare him for transport, but we have only so many healing spells, our sister needs…”

”No. Our sister knew what might be asked of her, as did you all. It is part of being a _Wychlaran_. There can be no other choice. The prisoner must be kept alive, for the time being.”

The agent was silent for a few brief seconds, but then she simply nodded. ”Yes, Oluanna. As you will.”

”As I will, for our beloved Rasheman. And now you must leave me. You have much to do yet, as do I. As do we all.”

The sending winked out, and the woman in the garden turned around, finally allowing the tears to fall. _Four. No, not four. Five. And that is only the victims of one night. How many others, taken from us too soon because of that wild beast? I could review the reports again, add them to the tally. No. It would make no difference. The monster must not die, no. Not yet. There are far more important concerns to consider._

She wiped the tears away, arranging her face carefully so that it might appear smooth and serene once more before she let herself be seen. 

_Yes, I can do this. For the good of everyone, I can. I will._

-*-

The city of Saradush was burning. Not completely, and not all the time, but now and then the catapults outside the walls would get a few missiles through. It was a wonder that the besieging army hadn’t already broken through, but it could only be a matter of time. There were too many people in the city, and too little food and water. Already there had been outbreaks of disease, and with tempers fraying there were those who seemed as likely to fight their own as the enemy. 

_And to think that I came here because I wanted to be safe. What a joke._

Camrys Felden had never asked to be a Bhaalspawn. She hadn’t even known she _was_ a Bhaalspawn until all the…trouble started. She was a baker, that’s what she was, and a pretty good one at that. She’d never wanted anything more out of life than to live in peace, to maybe have her own bakery some day, to get married and have a few children. That wasn’t so much to ask for, was it? Certainly she’d never asked to be hunted by crazy people wanting to kill her. 

_It’s not fair. I never hurt anybody!_

Yes, she’d been having nightmares for a while, really strange ones, but that wasn’t her fault, was it? And yes, those dreams had involved blood and….and hurting people, but she hadn’t done anything. Not really. That business with Mira Arlington might well have happened anyway. That little slattern should have known better than to barge into her bakery like that, looking for trouble. Accusing Camrys of things, that was so wicked of her. 

_I have a right to be walking of an evening with who I want, so there. It’s not as if Devan and she are official, or anything. And why should he want her and her shrill voice?_

So when Mira had grabbed her by the arms, shaking her and calling her horrible, horrible names…well, she’d gotten angry. That was all. Just angry. And the oven was right there, and so invitingly hot, ready to be used. It had been as if somebody was standing right behind her, telling her what to do. She’d never thought of herself as very strong, but right at that moment she’d broken out of Mira’s grip as if the other woman was a little child. She’d seized hold of her, and forced her over to the oven, and…and…

_But I didn’t kill her! I didn’t!_

Nobody had wanted to _listen_ , and that wasn’t fair at all. There had been two cityguards, and a priest, all of them crowding her, making her confused. Her face had still been flushed from the heat of the oven, and her hands felt hot, but they didn’t hurt. She’d tried offering them all some cake, asked them to sit down so that she could explain, but none of them wanted to listen. The priest had started saying things then, calling her names. Not the same names as Mira, but just as nasty. 

_I’m a decent woman, of a good family! Not what they said! They had no right to say something like that of my Mum, they didn’t!_

She’d grown angry again, and that friendly voice had told her what to do, just like before. It was good to have somebody who wasn’t calling her names. And she was still feeling strong, much stronger than usual, and the rollingpin had felt so right in her hand. So smooth, so solid. She’d made good use of it. 

Afterwards, she’d tidied the bakery because being clean and tidy was important. Then she’d baked a cake. A nice and big one, making up the ingredients in her head as she went along. It tasted good.  
She’d known that she’d need to leave. She was a decent woman, a good sort, and she’d had good reasons for what she’d done, but sometimes people just wouldn’t _listen_. She’d put on a clean dress and apron, and she’d taken the safety money from out of the pretty blue porcelain box on the shelf next to her bed, and then she’d walked out the door. She’d brought the rollingpin, because it was a good rollingpin and waste not, want not. At first she hadn’t known where to go, and she’d been feeling lost and confused, but after a while she’d heard rumors. Rumors of a safe place, where people with her little…problem…wouldn’t get into trouble. Rumors of a kind lady who’d make everything allright. 

And now she was here, and at first it had seemed like a nice place, but then the war had started. There had been no mention of a war, and what was a decent woman like her supposed to do in the middle of a war? Well, she could bake, and the soldiers did need bread, but this was not a good place to be. It wasn’t fair, not fair at all. 

Camrys gave a small sob, dodging the unmoving form of a dead beggar child and nearly slipped in a pool of something nasty. There had been killings of late, inside the city, more and more of them. _How could anybody do such horrible, horrible things? Just because they were a little…a little different?_ She’d never wanted to hurt anybody, but if they were to find out, they might want to hurt her too!

_I want to go home. I just want this nightmare to end._

The fireball struck her full in the face as she turned the corner, knocking her to the ground. She rolled, and screamed, her hair and skin blazing. And the smell, oh gods, the smell! Through the pain, she heard her own screams, sounding so very like those of Mira Arlington, and it hurt, it hurt, it hurt so much!

_Father! Please! I’ve been good, I’ve done what I was supposed to!_

Then the voice, the warm, encouraging voice inside her head.   
YES, DAUGHTER. YOU HAVE.

Then the world dissolved around Camrys, and there was only a cloud of ashes, scattering in the dry winds of Saradush.


	2. Ambiguous Augury

So they say  
That you're the hunter or you're the prey  
You can run away  
Or you can show 'em how to be brave  
It doesn't matter what you do  
They'll be hunting after you  
Trap you like an animal  
And then everywhere you turn  
There's another torch that burns  
It doesn't hurt me anymore  
I'm running into the fire  
Falling into the flames  
Turns me into the lion  
I am a feline, feline  
Fear the feline

’Feline’, Delta Goodrem

The child without a name grew up to be the hand  
To watch you, to shield you or kill on demand  
The choice he'd made he could not comprehend  
His blood a grim secret they had to command  
He's torn between his honor and the true love of his life  
He prayed for both but was denied  
So many dreams were broken and so much was sacrificed  
Was it worth the ones we loved and had to leave behind?  
So many years have passed, who are the noble and the wise?  
Will all our sins be justified?

’Hand of Sorrow’, Within Temptation

**Throne of Cards 2 – Ambiguous Augury**

_The trouble with prophecy is that it usually seems to insist upon vague hints about an uncertain future, while failing to mention those small but really crucial details which you really wanted to know._

_Excerpt from ’Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

”And what exactly does it take to get these antiquated rock puppets to perform? Threats? Bribery? I can deliver either, although I hesitate to think what a bunch of rocks could possibly desire. (An umbrella to keep the pigeons off them, perhaps?) We cannot afford to waste our time, any second could be precious!”

”Look Eddie,” Zaerini of Candlekeep said, trying to hold on to the dwindling crumbs of her patience with her lover. She knew he had good reason to be anxious and upset, but an anxious and upset Edwin equalled immense frustration for anybody in a very wide circle surrounding him. ”It’s like I said before. High Priestess Demin had a vision from Rillifane himself, urging us to come here. I don’t know about you, but if a god who’s been at least sort of friendly to me in the past suggests I go somewhere, I usually think it’s a good idea to take him seriously.”

”We should be on our way already,” Edwin insisted, his voice tense with a fear just barely held in check. His long fingers reached out to touch the dark red gemstone of the amulet hanging around his throat. Normally aglow with magical light, it was currently dark, and cold. Now and then, from the proper angle, Rini thought she glimpsed a tiny hint of light deep inside it, but she couldn’t be quite sure. ”He cannot be dead. I won’t allow it!”

”But we don’t know where to go yet,” Imoen said, nervously twirling a strand of pink hair around her finger. ”Not when none of the diviners in the city could locate him.”

”Useless charlatans, all of them! (If only my own considerable talents hadn’t been schooled elsewhere and diverted away from the field of divination, I would have had this sorted out already!)”

”Well, Demin says these statues are magical,” Zaerini said, looking at the grim stone faces surrounding her. Privately, she thought that there had probably been a very good reason why Edwin had been discouraged from using divination spells – after all, there had been secrets to keep from him. She decided that pointing that out wouldn’t do any good though. ”If she’s right, and if we can get them to work, then maybe we can learn something from them. You know I’ve tried reading the cards more than once, but so far I’ve got nothing. This is something we can do right here and now.” She took a deep breath. ”And if it doesn’t work out, then you and I are off to Thay. We know where he was going, and even if it isn’t much, it’s the only lead we’ve got.”

”And me too,” Imoen agreed. ”You’re not leaving me behind, are you, sis?” She gave the other woman a small grin, and wrapped her arm around her shoulders. ”From Candlekeep to eternity. I’m with you. Besides, he’s my friend as well.”

”No friend must be left behind!” Minsc agreed, reaching a hand up to pet the small hamster sitting on his shoulder. ”Minsc and Boo will charge to the rescue, and we will make all wicked foes standing between us and our good friend fall to our mighty cleavage!”

Despite the solemn occasion, Rini only barely managed to suppress a chuckle at that, and she thought she even saw Edwin’s lips twitch a little. ”Minsc,” She said, as gently as she could. ”You’re a Rashemani berserker. Don’t you think that in Thay, you’d be just a little bit conspicuous?” _But on the other hand, I’m his Witch. I can’t just abandon him._

”Ah, Little Rini is a clever Witch, so she is! Yes, the land of Evil Wizards is most dangerous, so Minsc must disguise himself, just like our clever lost friend would suggest.”

”We could always pretend to be a travelling circus, I suppose,” Edwin muttered. ”With a wig and a tail he’d make a passable gorilla.”

”But gorillas don’t have tails, do they?” Imoen said, forehead wrinkled in consternation.

”Exactly, that will make him even more of a novelty. Are we done wasting time yet?”

”Fine, fine,” Rini said, raking her fingers through her red hair, currently cut short so that it only just brushed her shoulders and partially covered her pointed ears. ”I’m trying, but these things don’t come with an instruction manual, do they?”

The stone statues, all five of them, regarded her silently with blank eyes. They stood in a rough semicircle, in a small clearing about an hour’s walk from the elven city of Suldanesselar. It had taken one of the city guards to lead them here, and Rini was quite sure that she’d never have found them on her own, they were that well hidden, deep within the forests of Tethyr. The towering trees blotted out the sky, leaning close in from all sides, and this deep down the air was stifling hot, even the soft breezes from the treetops of Suldanesselar denied to her. 

_I wish Jaheira were here. She wouldn’t know any more about making these rocks talk than I do, but she’d have something to say about it all, and she’d be able to do something to clear the air, even if it was just threatening to hit Eddie on the head with a stick._

But her druid friend and former guardian was far away by now, unaware of the current situation, and so was Anomen, the priest of Helm who’d started out as an unwanted suitor but had become a firm friend. 

_I miss them both. But wishing and wanting won’t get me anywhere. I’ve got to do something. But what?_

She looked at the statues again, and the statues looked back in a very unhelpful manner. They were really quite rough, only the vague shapes of human heads with slits for mouths and hollows for eyes. One thing she did notice was that none of the thick moss covering the ground had grown onto them. Maybe the elves of Suldanesselar came here now and then to clean them up. 

_Or maybe it’s because the moss knows better. Maybe it can sense something is up with them._

She shivered briefly at that thought. The statues hadn’t done anything but sit there, but she still didn’t like them, particularly the way they were smiling at her. 

_Hold on. Smiling? They weren’t smiling before._

The impassive stone faces had changed, each one twisting into a knowing smile directed at the half-elven bard standing in the middle of their circle. The air felt even thicker than before, so humid she could barely breathe and she could feel sweat trickling down her back, tracing cold little trails across warm skin. 

” The wheels of prophecy e'er turn,” One of the statues rumbled in a deep voice which could best be described as yes, gravely. ”Gorion's ward hath come. Crossroad of past, present and future, The one foreseen, the one foretold.”

”Oh that’s great,” Rini muttered, her hand creeping towards the hilt of her sword. She didn’t think it would do much good against talking rocks, but it did make her feel better. ”Well, let’s get it over with. Please tell me there won’t be any hints of Irenicus coming back from the dead, ok?”

” That which hath past is ne'er truly gone,” The second statue said. ”History repeats, though mortals choose not to see.”

”Wait a second, does that mean Irenicus _is_ coming back? I so don’t need that. Or Gods no, not Aerie, that would be even worse…”

”War and bloodshed be not new to the Realms, A God that once hath been may be once again.”

”Perfect,” Edwin muttered. ”We walked all the way out here to listen to vague gibberish about Bhaal? We already know that one is better off dead. Can you not provide any useful information?”

” Armies march and cities burn,” The third statue intoned. ”The rivers froth with tainted blood. The corpses of those born not innocent feed the inferno of boiling hate.”

”Ew,” Imoen said, wrinkling her nose. ”That’s really gross, but what we really want is to find a friend of ours. Can you at least tell us if he’s still alive?”

” Bhaal's Servant deceived,” The fourth statue said, sounding rather satisfied. ”Five led down a false path, a hidden traitor lurks in thy midst. The Servant of Bhaal knows death and destruction, the face of an ally, the mask of a foe.”

”Um, ok, that was really unhelpful,” Rini said, shrugging. She looked at her friends, who all seemed equally puzzled. _None of them would ever betray me, I know that much. So what can it mean? I don’t think Vadrak really counts as ’Servant of Bhaal’ does he, but maybe they just classify all assassins as such. If that’s what they mean, then he’s in trouble, but it’s not as if that’s news._ ”Come on guys, give me something to work with here?”

” The Children of Bhaal bring death to the land,” The fifth statue growled. ”They slaughter each other, and feed their Father. Death and betrayal walk together, a river of tainted blood doth not cleanse.”

There was a moment of silence, and then all of them spoke together as one. 

”The storm approaches, we speak no more.”

”That’s it?” Rini said, staring incredulously at the statues. ”That’s why we walked all the way out here? So I could get told that ’Oooh, being a Bhaalspawn is creeeeepy and people want to KILL you for it’? I don’t need any bunch of malfunctioning lawnornaments to tell me that! Can’t you at least give me one tiny tidbit of useful information?”

The silence of the clearing felt like warm mud, trickling into her ears, filling her nose and her lungs, suffocating her slowly but certainly. Finally, just as she was about to give up, there was a sharp groan from the statues and their voices could be heard again, this time as a low whisper. 

”Through infernal gates you will walk the path of need to your goal. In the darkest of places you will be guided by the least among your number to the lair of the beast. That which was relinquished must be found once more. The son will slay the sire to make him rise again.”

”That is a filthy lie!” Edwin sputtered, his face an angry red. ”I would never, ever, even under the most dire of circumstances remotely contemplate doing such a thing!”

”Of course you wouldn’t,” Rini said, taking her lover’s hand and squeezing it tightly. ”You know what these things are like. For all we know, they could have been talking about somebody else.” She waited a moment to see if the statues would add anything more, but no, that seemed to be it. It was getting darker minute by minute, what little she could see of the sky from between the treetops was covered with roiling clouds. ”I guess we’d better head back to Suldanesselar,” She said with a sigh. ”I’m sorry guys, I really did think going here would help us out, but this didn’t exactly help. Looks like the only option we’ve got left is heading for Thay and then hoping we can dig some information up there.”

”Should we send word to Anomen and Jaheira?” Imoen asked. ”If we’re going to a dangerous place like Thay – no offence, Edwin – we probably want a healer along don’t we?”

”Yes…I’m just not sure exactly where they are right now.” The two healers had come to a mutual understanding after Jon Irenicus had been defeated, and it had come as no great surprise to Rini that they wanted to formalize that understanding. The wedding had been private, and very touching. It had been wonderful to see how happy they were together, and she’d fully understood about them needing a bit of privacy. Jaheira had mentioned wanting to eventually head back for a visit to the druid grove outside Trademeet, but they’d been planning to take a long detour through the woods first, just the two of them. Of course that had all been before the Thay Emergency reared its ugly head. ”Even if we could find them somehow, they could be so far away that they can’t get back to us in time. I think we need to leave as quickly as possible, there’s nothing left for us to do here.”

”Yes,” Edwin said with a small sigh of relief. He reached out to touch his amulet again, gripping it tightly. ”Once we reach Thay, we will surely be able to learn more. I, ah, will have to avoid my colleagues among the Red Wizards until such time as I have smoothed things over with them. Degardan’s death did buy me time, but the Zulkir will have been asking questions by now. Even so, I have contacts and confidantes I may call upon there, and I _will_ find Father.”

”We will,” Rini nodded. ”I promise. If we can get hold of Ano and Jaheira, then great, but otherwise we’ll just have to go without them.” She smiled. ”Surely we can all survive for a short bit without a healer along, don’t you th…”

If it hadn’t been for the sharpened hearing of her elven heritage, Zaerini wouldn’t have heard a thing. As it was, she heard a sharp buzzing noise, almost like a bee, but too swift and moving in too straight a line. She turned around quickly, but not quickly enough. There was a forceful impact in her chest, as if she’d been kicked by a small horse, and then a sharp pain. 

_Oh_ , she thought as she dropped to her knees and saw the crossbow bolt sticking out of her chest. _Great. You’d think between all those cryptic dire warnings those statues could have piped up and said ’Look out, there’s an assassin behind you, and not the one you want either!’_

Her vision growing dim, Zaerini tried to yank the crossbow bolt out of her chest. Her fingers were slipping and sliding across the shaft, slick with blood, and it was difficult to grasp it properly. It did hurt, quite a bit, especially when she breathed. 

_Couldn’t have hit my heart though, or I’d be dead already. Probably not a lung either. I turned around just in time._

The unseen assassin probably wouldn’t be standing around cursing his bad luck and stomping his feet though. No, if he was any good, he’d be on the move already, trying to put a distance between himself and the roaring Minsc who was already charging through the bushes searching for him. He’d also be trying to…

Twang. 

The second crossbow bolt struck the ground, just barely grazing the skin of Rini’s nose. She’d only just managed to roll out of the way in time. Unfortunately, that meant rolling across the bolt still stuck in the left side of her chest, and she couldn’t hold back a moan of pain. Breathing was harder now, she had to force herself to keep doing it and not simply stop. 

A forceful surge of magic filled the air, making her skin tingle and filling her mind with sparkles. Then there was a loud ’Wooomph’, the crash of falling trees, and the crackling and hissing of burning wood. 

_Good thinking, Eddie. That should keep him busy, maybe flush him out. Let’s hope it won’t burn down the whole forest though, the elves probably would go to war on us, ’Heroes’ or not._

Somebody was grasping her under her arms, gently but firmly, dragging her across the soft ground. She tried to help, to keep moving, but the most she could manage was a few feeble kicks with her feet. Then she was on the ground, and although she couldn’t see anything any longer, she could feel something cold and smooth against her lips. A bottle, yes. A fluid was trickling into her mouth, and now breathing was getting easier, and so was thinking. There was another sharp pain in her chest, making her gasp, but then that pain was gone. More fluid in her mouth, and she drank as quickly as she could, feeling strength returning. Finally, she was able to sit up, arms trembling as she pressed her hand against the spot where the wound had been. It was gone now, as was the crossbow bolt, but she still felt tender.

”Can you stand?” Edwin asked. His hands were on her shoulders, and his eyes were wide and anxious as they looked into hers. ”We need to move, as soon as you can, before she circles back to us.”

”I…think so,” Rini said, struggling to her feet while leaning on her lover. She was still feeling unsteady, but better than she had been. ”Poison?”

”Yes,” Edwin said, nodding. ”I have a few more antidotes and healing potions, but we had better not take any chances.”

”Right you are. Let’s go then.” Before moving out, she paused briefly to disguise herself and Edwin with invisibility spells. They wouldn’t muffle noises, but they’d at least help hide them, hopefully making them hard to target from a distance. _Can’t rely on it completely though._ Something Edwin had said came back to her as she crept through the bushes, listening for the sounds of battle. _He said ’she’. So, a female assassin then._ That wasn’t reassuring. Of all the hired killers Sarevok had sent after her, the female ones had been among the nastier. _But this time it isn’t Sarevok, and Irenicus is dead and gone. So who?_

Before she had time to consider this puzzle, Rini heard a small, and yet extremely unsettling ’click’, and felt Edwin freeze in place next to her. 

”Ah…” He whispered. ”I believe I may have just stepped in something.”

”This isn’t going to be a ’something’ as harmless as a moose’s poo-pile, is it?”

”No.”

”It’s a trap, isn’t it?”

”Yes.”

”Is it hurting?”

”Not yet, no.”

”It’ll probably go off when you step off the trigger though. You’d better stay put until we find Immy so she can fix it. Don’t worry, I’ll draw the assassin off you.”

”Don’t worry?!” Edwin hissed. ”Draw her off me?! You…”

”See you later, Dread Wizard,” Rini said, interrupting him with a quick brush of her lips against his. He was still fuming, she could tell, but that couldn’t be helped. She drew upon the power of Bhaal, the power fully hers once more with Irenicus’ death, and the threw her voice among the tall trees, a trap of her own. ”Oh help me, help me please!” Her voice sang out, far into the trees to her right and well away from her lover. ”Won’t somebody help, it hurts so bad…” Even as the last words faded, she dropped to the ground, fading into the form of a small, red cat. While the transformation would cancel the previous spell, it would allow her to move with nearly complete silence, and she’d still be very hard to spot in this shape. It wasn’t likely the assassin would be looking for a cat, either. And speaking of the asssassin…

_Let’s play some Hide and Seek, shall we?_

She slipped through the underbrush, making sure to stay away from open ground, just in case. Now and then she did pause to look around. 

_She must have heard me. If she was fooled, she’ll be on the move. And even if she wasn’t fooled, she can’t know for sure I was bluffing, she’ll still have to come check it out._

An acorn fell to the ground, in front of her nose, and there was a soft rustle. Very quiet, but in this form, she had better hearing than even her half-elven ears could manage. She tilted her head backwards, and yes, there was a shadowy shape far above, among the thick branches. 

_She’s waiting for me to make a move, I guess. And I will, just not the one she’s expecting._

The red cat slowly started to climb the tree, taking care to stay on the opposite side of the trunk from where the assassin was perched, so she wouldn’t be spotted. Suddenly, a new noise made her pause, her heart skipping a beat in fear. 

”Little Rini! Minsc is coming, have no fear!”

_No! She’ll target him for sure, why didn’t I think of it that I’d call him and Immy here if they heard me?_

She couldn’t undo her mistake though, only do what she could to correct it. She climbed faster, claws digging deeply into the bark, nearly leaping up the tall treetrunk. She could see the assassin now, a slim female figure in dark green leather armour, back towards her. The woman was raising her crossbow, taking careful aim at her target down on the ground. 

Zaerini pounced, launching herself through the air with claws out. The assassin must have heard something, for she started turning around. There was a glimpse of a pale face, dark hair, green eyes wide with surprise, and then she felt her claws digging into skin and flesh, raking down as hard as she could. She didn’t dare stay put though, a small animal would be no match for a woman used to combat, claws or not. She slipped back into her own form instead, taking advantage of her opponent’s surprise to kick her in the chest with paws turned back into feet. The other woman gave a small grunt, but although she wobbled a little, she didn’t fall. She’d discarded the crossbow by now, and instead she had drawn a long dagger and was advancing steadily on the half-elf. The blood running down her torn cheek created the disturbing impression of tears, but the green eyes were cold and pitiless.

Rini had her own weapon out now but going into close combat with this woman didn’t seem a smart choice.   
_That would be playing into her hands, she’s probably far better at it than I am. I’d have to be a really quick study to keep up with her._   
She grinned, staring directly into the other woman’s eyes. The assassin didn’t falter, but she looked momentarily puzzled.   
_Yep, that’s it. I’m up to something, but you don’t know what, do you. Come on then._

She’d edged to her feet by now, her back against the trunk of the tall tree, and the assassin would have to advance along the branch to get to her. That would put her at a disadvantage, forcing her to go slowly and…  
The assassin flashed a grin of her own and leapt into the air, grasping an overhanging branch and swinging through the air in a somersault. Before the surprised half-elf could react to this new move, her opponent had her pinned, one strong arm across her throat, the other one coming down rapidly with a flash of bright steel. 

_Now!_

For the third time this day she drew upon the power of Bhaal, feeling the strongest surge of power yet. Through the physical contact with her foe, she created a connection, wires of stolen knowledge and understanding sneaking into the other one with the speed of thought. Insight flashed through her mind, and briefly she knew, understood, the painful training, the physical prowess and the raw talent arrayed against her. 

_Mine._

Filched knowledge working for her now, her arm came up in a move she definitely didn’t know by herself, landing a solid blow across the other woman’s throat that sent her reeling. She followed it up with a quick kick, vaguely aware that there was blood running down her thigh – the assassin might have failed her planned stroke but had managed to hit her just the same. She’d have to be quick, but already she felt herself weakening, and the talents she’d ‘borrowed’ would only last for a few moments longer, after which she’d surely be out of luck. 

The assassin might not have known this, but she was already getting to her feet, edging closer with greater wariness now. Any moment now, she would surely strike again. Muscles tensing, closer and closer, ready for the strike, almost there now…  
And the assassin gasped, her mouth forming an ‘o’ of surprise as her body jerked with the sudden impact of an arrow striking her full in the back. She reeled, toppled, tried to correct her balance, but it was too late. She fell silently, tumbling down as loosely as a ragdoll, never making a sound. Knees suddenly feeling very weak, Zaerini carefully lowered herself onto the branch, peering down. There was no sign of the woman, alive or dead. Imoen’s pale, upturned face looked back at her from the ground, eyes filled with anxiety. Her sister still held her bow with easy confidence, another arrow already ready. 

“Are you ok?!” Imoen called out.

“Mostly,” Rini replied. “Nice shot! But watch out, she must be close!”

“She ran off,” Imoen said, sounding a little apologetic. “I thought she’d break her neck for sure, but she really knows how to fall, I guess. I checked where she landed, and she wasn’t there. Minsc was right behind me, he’ll be here any second. Where’s Edwin?”

“In need of having a trap disarmed,” Rini said slowly easing herself down the tree. This was so much harder without claws, it wasn’t even funny. “I’ll tell you where when I get down, don’t want to lead her to him in case she’s not given up yet.” She blinked, feeling the world tilt and lurch around her, her vision momentarily growing grey and dim. “Oh. Ouch. Did I bleed more than I thought I did?”

“Doesn’t look too bad from here,” Imoen said. “Does it hurt much?”

“I’ve had worse, but I just…felt really strange there for a moment. Like…like when…”

_Like when Irenicus died. Oh. Oh no. Bad. Bad, bad, bad._

And the world spun into a tight vortex, sucking her down and away into infinity and oblivion.


	3. The Squick and The Dead

**Throne of Cards 3 – The Squick and The Dead**

_If forced to make a seriously shady deal, at least try to get a laugh out of it._

_Excerpt from ’Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

” I greet you, god-child, you who are of divine blood. I have awaited you.”

Blinking in confusion, Zaerini sat up, then stood, trying to make sense of where she was, how she had got there, and just who was talking to her. She was on…an island of rock. An island of rock, floating in an empty void, with eerie screams and chuckles echoing faintly in the distance. 

_Oh. Great. Just great. This place again. At least there won’t be an Irenicus. I hope._

Minsc, Imoen and Edwin were present as well, all of them looking at their surroundings with the same mixture of surprise, awe and disgust that she was feeling. There was also another person. A very tall person, with bright blue skin that clashed horribly with the very bright orange hair and glowing orange wings on its back. It was hard to tell if it was male or female, the face was beautiful in an impersonal, sexless way. It was watching her – or so she thought, since its eyes glowed a bright blue it was a little difficult to tell for sure. Its left cheek was tattooed with the image of a stark orange lump of a vaguely familiar shape. ”Uh…hi?” She said. ”What…who are you? Did you bring us here?”

”I am a Solar,” The creature said, not taking its eyes off her. ”I am called Flutter-Brain.”

”Clearly an apt designation,” Edwin said, brushing his robes off. ”You, creature! You will instantly restore us to our previous location (minus the trap, of course) or you will feel the wrath of Edwin Odesseiron, slayer of dragons, undead, and demons alike.”

”Eddie…” Rini said, clutching her lover’s arm while she aimed a fixed smile at the solar. ”It’s a celestial. Not just any celestial, but a solar, the most powerful kind there is. Please, let’s try diplomacy before we fight to the death?”

”Of course, my most beloved little imp, and so I was. You need to make them fear you first, you see, then the negotiations will go all the better.”

”I cannot bring you back,” Flutter-Brain said in its clear, bell-like voice. 

”Aw, why not?” Imoen asked. ”Don’t mind Edwin, he’s always like that. I think Flutter-Brain is a really…um…special name.”

”The good names were all used up several millennia ago,” Flutter-Brain said, now sounding rather sour. ”Soul-Caller, Pristine-Purity, Candy-Cooker…all of them. Why do you think I’ve got this tattoo? It’s so I can be told apart from all the other oodles of solars floating about the multiverse. Oh, what I wouldn’t give for a better name…”

”Minsc knows! The glowing person can be named Hamster-Champion. Minsc would use it himself, but the name of Minsc is all the name Minsc needs.”

”Thank you, but no,” Flutter-Brain said with a sigh. ”And what am I thinking, going off topic like this, I had this whole speech prepared and everything, and now I’ve ruined it, ruined it!” It sighed again. ”I can’t bring you back, because I don’t control this realm. You do, god-child.”

”I do?” Rini said. ”Then how come it isn’t nicer looking than this?”

”Your control is rudimentary at best,” Flutter-Brain said. ”The time of Alaundo’s prophecy draws nigh, Zaerini of Candlekeep, the time when the sparks of Bhaal’s essence will be joined at last. When you were last in your sire’s realm, its properties were in part altered and controlled by you, but you as yet understand very little of your powers. You are not prepared.”

”She doesn’t want any of Bhaal’s stupid old powers, and I don’t either,” Imoen said, frowning. 

”It matters little what you want,” Flutter-Brain said, still in that same calm, even voice. ”You have them, and it is your presence which determines the outcome of the prophecy. You must be prepared, and I have been sent to help you achieve that. I will not control you or interfere with your choices, only assure that you know what you need to know.” The solar bowed, orange wings spread out. ”I will see you soon, god-child. Until then, hold your heart close and know that you are not alone.” There was a quick flash of light, and then the creature was gone. 

”Hey, wait!” Rini called out. ”You didn’t get around to telling me the stuff you said I needed to know!” She sighed. ”I wonder if solars are influenced by what name they have? Maybe I should try to think of a better one for her…him…it. It couldn’t hurt.”

”Until such a time, Little Sister, you would be wise to listen to my councel instead,” A new voice said from behind her back. It was a deep, dark voice, almost as familiar to her as her own, and it made little goosebumps crawl down her spine. She turned around, trying to sound calmer than she felt. 

”Sarevok.”

His tall form looked much the same as she remembered it, a head taller than most men and heavily muscled beneath his spiky armor. Golden eyes, so eerily similar to her own glinted from inside the gaping maw of his helmet, and she thought she could see the tiniest hint of a smirk. Behind him, she could glimpse the protruding rocks, he was a dark shade, partially but not entirely real. 

”So,” Sarevok said, not taking his eyes off her. ”You have finally arrived. I have been waiting for you.”

”Eh?” Minsc said, frowning. ”He is like bad penny, this one. An armored, deep-voiced penny of most sinister evil!”

”It makes no matter,” Edwin added, flexing his fingers before reaching for his spellcomponents. ”If he did not get a satisfactory dose of pain back in Baldur’s Gate, why then we shall simply have to supply him with a repeat performance, yes? (And this time, I say we don’t settle for scattering the ashes. Using them for the cattray seems most appropriate.)”

”Baldur’s Gate was merely a setback,” Sarevok said, glaring at the wizard. 

”A pretty major one,” Imoen said with a small snort. ”And if you think we’re going to let you hurt Rini, get ready for another one.”

”Ah, the Pink One,” Sarevok said, sneering. ”Truly, the Children of Bhaal are made up of mice as well as lions.”

”Yeah? Well this mouse is alive and kicking, unlike some!”

”Sarevok,” Rini cut in. ”You said you were waiting for me, and I guess it wasn’t just to trade insults with Immy. What do you want?”

He took a step closer, and despite the translucency of his dark form she had to steel herself in order not to shie back as he towered over her. ”What do I want? I have fought my way through the Abyss, through blistering snow and across scorching deserts, death and despair all around me. What do you think I want, Little Sister? I want to live again, and be free of this place. You, my sweet sibling, have the power to achieve this.”

”Oh, that is rich,” Edwin said, flicking an imaginary speck of dust off the cuff of his sleeve. ”And why, pray tell, would she want to do such a ludicrous thing, even if it were somehow possible? (It surely couldn’t be due to his pleasant demeanour or sparkling wit.)”

”Because,” Sarevok said with a triumphant smirk, ”I studied the old lore of Bhaal, and the Prophecies of Alaundo for years, and I listened to our sire’s instructions. I know much of this place. I could tell you how to leave it, and how to get to where you need to go. I could tell you how to draw upon its powers and call allies to your side. I could tell you how to begin to control it – if I so choose.”

”Uh huh,” Rini said, crossing her arms. ”And what’s the catch?”

”I require but the smallest fraction of your immortal soul, my sister – given freely, with the taint of our dead sire still attached to it. It would restore me as a mortal man, flesh and blood as I once was. Sarevok would live again!”

”Oh, just a bit of my soul?! That’s all, is it? Got any other trustworthy offers for me, like mysterious inheritances from unknown princes in Neverwinter?”

There was a sound of chiming bells, and a soft white light as the tall, blue form of Flutter-Brain appeared once again, floating in midair between the two siblings. ”The shade is telling the truth, God Child,” It said. ”The future consequences of accepting its offer are unknown, but the act in itself will not harm you. And now excuse me, I must get back to my bookclub meeting, very late, must rush, ta ta!”

”Wait!” Rini cried out. ”You said you’d explain things to me and…” She sighed as she stared at the empty spot where the Solar had been. ”Never mind.”

”You’re going to insist on doing this, aren’t you?” Edwin said, placing his hand on her shoulder. ”Would it be helpful if I pointed out to you that this implies that you are at best severely concussed from our recent battle, and at worst delusional? (If that oaf so much as scratches her, he’ll come to appreciate the full consequences of mortality. Slowly, and with a red-hot poker.)”

”Sorry, love,” Rini said with an apologetic smile. ”We do need to get out of here, and I haven’t the faintest idea how to do that.”

”But him!” Imoen protested. ”After Gorion? And all the other stuff he’s done?”

”I know, it sounds crazy,” She said, giving her sister a pleading look. ”But…there’s more than that. There’s something between us, there always has been. I’ve got to, Immy. I’ve got to.”

”So let me do it, then! I’m a Child of Bhaal as well, I bet it would work for me too.” Imoen’s blue eyes were suspiciously shiny, but her voice was steady as she went on. ”You only just got your soul back, remember?”

”So did you, Immy. I’m not letting you risk it for me. No way.”

”Then you shouldn’t do it either!”

”Minsc would offer to do it,” Minsc chimed in, ”Even if he doesn’t know what ’it’ is. Boo would help too.”

”No!” Sarevok protested. ”I will not be reanimated with the soul of a hamster!”

”Beggars can’t be choosers,” Edwin said. ”It would undoubtedly be an improvement in both manners and intelligence. (I wouldn’t be averse to watching him store food in his cheeks.)”

”Awwww, Minsc knew that the Not So Evil Wizard would come to see the glory and magnificence of Boo!” Minsc gushed, hugging a sputtering Edwin tightly to his chest. 

”Get off me, you idiotic ranger! No, don’t push my face into your armpit! Phaugh, do you ever even wash?”

”No hamster soul,” Rini said decisively. ”Honestly, guys, try to be serious.” _I just sounded like Jaheira. Why am I sounding like Jaheira? This is so wrong._ ”It has to be me. What do I need to do, Sarevok?”

”Focus your will,” Her brother said. ”Focus it on us, Little Sister. Of what has gone between us in the past, and what is between us in the present. You can feel the connection, can you not? All you need to do is use it. You are the daughter of a god, so use that heritage and impose your will on the world. Here, in this place, it is easiest for you to do just that. It is all a matter of willing it. ”

Burning eyes looked into hers, the only thing she could see. That deep, rumbling voice, the only voice she could hear. And yes, she could feel it, the connection. _All a matter of will. Right then. I will you to return to me, brother. Don’t make me regret it._   
Darkness passed across her vision, and a coldness that went through her body, bone, marrow and blood. She felt her knees buckle for a moment, and then a strong arm around her waist as Minsc grabbed her, keeping her steady. When her vision returned, Sarevok was still standing before her, tall, powerful and muscular. She could see his face fully now, with the strong features, the golden eyes, a bald head and yes, a small goatee which Rini privately thought looked rather ridiculous. His eyes widened, and then he roared with laughter. 

” I...live! Flesh and blood and bone! I am alive! Ha ha! I swore I would scratch and crawl my way back into the world of the living...and I have done it! Ahahaha!”

”Um…right…” Rini said, still staring. She could feel a giggle trying to escape her, and she didn’t quite dare look at Imoen who was making choking noises already. Sarevok gave her a suspicious look. ”So,” She said, steadfastly keeping her eyes above shoulderlevel. ”Don’t know if you noticed, but I guess the scratching and crawling wore your gear out. And it looks like my bit of soul didn’t stretch far enough to reanimate your armor. Or your sword. Or your pants. Or, in fact, your underpants. Let’s hope Minsc has a few clean spares in his pack.”

Sarevok’s eyes slowly widened, his face turning a deeper colour. He looked down at himself, and gave a very Un-Sarevok squeak of horror as his hands flashed into a covering position. 

_Well, Zaerini thought. At least it’s a step up from trying to stab each other._

_A little later…_

”All I said was that my own magnificent physique is clearly superior in every way that matters. (I always thought he was overcompensating for something.)”

”What exactly are you implying, wizard?! Not one single lady has ever uttered the slightest word of complaint, in fact they were prone to be left begging for more! If anybody is ’overcompensating’ it would be you, with your ridiculous staff. Is that glitter on the end? I warn you, if you are planning to put it to any perverted and deviant use on my sister, I…”

”Oh, I wouldn’t dream of subjecting my dear Hellkitten to any perversions,” Edwin said with his most smug smile. ”Except the ones she’ll agree to, of course.”

”WHAT?!”

”Now, I will not go into any details, because I am after all a noble Thayvian gentleman and must not be indiscreet…”

”Hah!”

”…but suffice it to say that she has no cause for complaint. Isn’t that so, my love?”

”Huh?” Zaerini said, startling a little. She looked up from the pile of armor she, Imoen and Minsc were busy sorting through and then she sighed. ”Are you guys still going at it? Can’t you just whip them out, compare, and be done?”

”Little sister, that would be highly inapproriate!”

”Edwin Odesseiron does not ’compare’, he is by himself incomparable!”

”That’s for sure,” Rini said with a crooked grin that at first made her lover preen like a cockerel and then made him give her a slightly suspicious look. ”Now, Sarevok, this is all we had in our Bags of Holding. Most of it isn’t really big enough to fit you, but we found enough to make you a sort of suit of armour.”

”A ’sort of’ suit of armour?” Her brother said, sounding rather sceptical. 

”Well, it beats walking about in Immy’s old fur jacket for a loincloth, doesn’t it? Unless you wanted to go for the ’rugged barbarian warrior’ approach, but I wouldn’t recommend it unless you want people to start addressing you in monosyllable words only and give you instructions on how to open doors.”

”But it could be fun!” Imoen chimed in. ”The rugged barbarian hero, come upon hard times, brought low by despicable villains. Hm, I guess that’d be us then. Hey, could we chain him up and sell him to some evil king or fat high priest or something? I bet they’d pay a bundle and he could always break out afterwards.” She gave Sarevok an innocent look. ”All you’d have to do is grovel a bit and kneel before his throne to make him think you’re safe to keep.”

”No! Sarevok kneels to no man!”

There was an odd sound and Rini turned around to see that Edwin’s face had gone as red as his robe and that the wizard was fairly choking with laughter. ”Sorry Immy,” She hurried to say. ”We kind of need him, remember? Sarevok, try the armour on.”

”Very well,” Her brother groused, examining the pieces one by one. ”They are, at least, of sufficient quality.” He gave the breastplate an evil look. ”Pink?”

”I think it’s a paladin set,” Rini explained. ”Only got one piece though, sorry.”

”Well, I think it’s pretty!” Imoen said, still grinning at Sarevok. 

”Pretty…” The warrior muttered, but he did put it on. ”Green leg armour? Purple cloak? Red gambeson? Golden gorget? And what are these…things…on my shoulders?”

”Boo says they’re meant to resemble terrible and fierce kraken, rearing up from the waves!” Minsc helpfully offered. 

”Mating kraken, I think,” Rini said, eyeing the contorted metallic monsters. ”Eddie, what did you say the spell on that thing was?”

”Apart from the general magical protections,” Her lover said in the more businesslike tone he tended to apply when discussing the arcane, ”They would also seem to contain an enchantment to repel sea monsters.”

”Perfect,” Sarevok muttered. 

”Well, I guess it’s working,” Rini said. ”I don’t see any sea monsters here, do you?”

”I look like a jester in motley!” Her brother complained. ”Hopefully we will come across something more suitable soon.”

”Hey, what happened to the ’glad to be alive, thanks darling sister for giving up a piece of your soul and your hardearned loot for me?’ Oh, one more thing.” She reached into the Bag of Holding again. ”We did manage to hang onto your old sword.” 

Sarevok’s eyes lit up as he took the large blade, experimentally testing the weight of it. ”Ahhh, yes. This is more like it. At least now if somebody dares mock my attire, I will be able to dispense appropriate retribution.” He gave Edwin a meaningful look. 

”Great,” Rini said. ”But before that can be an issue, we kind of still need to get out of here. And you did say you could help with that, among other things, so how about we get cracking?”

”As you wish,” Sarevok nodded. He held out his arm, pointing at the gloomy surroundings. ”This is a small piece of that part of the Abyss which belonged to our sire. A pocketplane, bordering only on itself, folding back and back on itself in an infinite loop.”

”How?”

”Don’t interrupt me! The exact mechanics are not important.” 

”You don’t know them, do you?” Edwin said. ”If you have been wasting our time…”

”…you will do what to me, wizard? Kill me? Don’t make me laugh. As it happens, no, I am not wasting your time. While the pocketplane only borders on itself, the Child of Bhaal in control of it can align it to other places.”

”Any other place?” Rini asked, her heart beating faster. That would solve so much. 

”Yes. It will take practise to learn to control it, however. During my studies in Candlekeep, I did learn something about it. The prophecy driving you will influence you as you gain control of the pocketplane, and the need of the prophecy will take you to the place you most need to be at this particular time.”

”Really?” Rini said, chewing her lip thoughtfully. ”I guess that’s good…if a bit random. And what else can I do?”

”You can adapt the pocketplane’s appearance to suit you. This is merely a template, a baseline. In time, your conscious and subconscious desires will form the pocketplane around you according to your needs.” Sarevok gave her a peculiar smile. ”As befits a goddess.”

”Goddess? Me? Ha, that’d be the day, wouldn’t it, Eddie?” Rini turned to her lover, and was disconcerted to see the look on his face. More than worried, it was as if he had just looked into the Abyss. ”Eddie? What’s wrong?”

”Nothing,” The wizard curtly said. ”Is there anything else?”

”Properly gaining access to these abilities will take some time,” Sarevok explained. ”It will also be challenging. Do you see these portals?” He pointed at one of several glowing portals, hanging in midair around the platform they were standing on. ”I believe these are focal points of the pocketplane, and that you need to challenge them and wrest control over them. Conquering the first one should allow us all to leave, and to return.”

”Um, ok. I don’t suppose you know what kind of monsters we’ll meet inside, do you?”

Sarevok shook his head. ”No. We must enter, and triumph, if we are to proceed. But there is one other ability, that you ought to be able to access immediately. A Child of Bhaal with as much power as you already have amassed can reach through the pocketplane and into our world, not only to transport his own person but also to summon allies. If there is somebody you know well, a close ally, you have the power to bring them here.”

”Little Rini can bring our poor lost friend back all safe and sound!” Minsc said with a beaming smile and clapped his hands together. ”Boo is so happy, look at his fur standing up with excitement!”

”I can try, Minsc,” Rini said, feeling a nervous flutter in her throat. Not quite daring to look at Edwin, she eyed Boo instead. Yes, the little hamster’s fur certainly seemed fluffy, but she couldn’t say if the look in his beady little eyes was one of approval or dismissal. ”I will try, of course.” She turned to Sarevok again. ”So what do I do?”

”Not having had the chance to attempt it, all I can go by is my readings,” Her brother said. ”From what my sources told me, it should be enough to focus on your memories of the person in question, until you are able to view them inside the portal. Then, simply bring them here.”

”Simply. Huh. Well, let’s have a go then.” She stepped closer to one of the portals, and stared into its glittering depths, focusing as hard as she could. _Come on, come on, come on…where are you?_ She concentrated until her head was aching, and her eyes blurred, until she felt an arm around her waist and Edwin gently pulled her away. 

”He has always been difficult to scry for,” Her lover said with a sad smile. ”And while I cannot know the exact current circumstances (Undoubtedly horrors beyond imagining) it wouldn’t come as a great surprise if there are some form of warding spells in place. The Red Wizards have many adepts with such skills.”

”I’ll try again later,” She said, swallowing to get rid of the lump in her throat. ”I promise. We’re not giving up.”

”Of course we’re not,” Imoen agreed. ”Never! Rini, how about if you try for somebody else for now, just to see if it works at all?”

”Good idea,” She agreed. Then she smiled. ”We could use a healer, wherever we’re going next. Let’s see what Jaheira and Ano are up to.” She approached the portal again, and this time concentrated on her druid friend. No impenetrable wall of mist blocked her this time, no sense of empty blankness. The portal shifted, colour seeping into its glowing grey surface, and then she was looking into a forest glade. The sun was shining, and it seemed to be late afternoon. And yes, there was Jaheira, looking healthy and happy. She was smiling, a fond, warm smile, and her green eyes were filled with light. Anomen was sitting behind her, and she was leaning back against his chest even as he bent to kiss the top of her head. 

”Awww,” Imoen said, grinning. ”That’s cute.”

”Spare us the revolting gushing before my breakfast decides to revisit my oral cavity,” Edwin said with a shudder. ”If we must summon the interfering druid, let us be quick about it before they get into activities which would give me eternal mental scars.”

”What is she doing?” Sarevok said, sounding rather baffled. ”Sewing?”

”I don’t think so…” Rini said, peering through the portal at Jaheira’s hands. ”That’s not cloth, it looks like leather. Nice and soft, but still leather. She’s making something. Looks like…boots. Really, really tiny boots.” She felt her mouth slowly drop open until her lower jaw was hanging somewhere around her knees when she saw Anomen reach out a hand to slowly caress Jaheira’s stomach. ”Oh.”

”Is something wrong with friend Jaheira, Little Rini?” Minsc asked. ”She’s not ill?”

”Um, no Minsc, not at all,” Rini said, feeling her cheeks go a little warm. ”Not at all. The opposite, really.”

”Oh!” Imoen said, smiling widely. ”They look so happy, don’t they? I wonder if it’s a boy or a girl?”

”With a druid, I wouldn’t be surprised by a litter of puppies,” Edwin snapped. ”Shall we get on with it?”

”Seriously, Edwin,” Rini said and let the vision fade. It was easy to do so, she just let go of the mental hold she had, and it faded. ”They’re having a baby, we can’t drag them into the Abyss and ask them to go fight monsters with us. That’s just wrong.” She rolled her eyes at the blank look on her lover’s face. ”Let’s put it this way. If it was you and I, would you want _me_ to go into battle in that state? Or would you want to leave me behind to do it yourself?”

”Well, of course not, what a preposterous notion, that is of course entirely and completely diff…” Edwin’s eyes went nearly as wide as saucers. ”Are you saying that you…that I…that we’re going to…”

”No! I mean, not right now. I mean, not as far as I know, I’m not saying I’d mind in the future sometime if…look, it was a hypothetical question, ok? Anyway, we can’t ask it of them, not now. We just can’t. We’ll have to think of something else. Somebody who’s not tied down, somebody we know well enough that I can find them. Somebody skilled, somebody that we can trust with important stuff.” She laughed suddenly, as the idea came to her. ”Aren’t we lucky? I know just the right person…”


	4. Introductions and Exposition

**Throne of Cards 4 – Introductions and Exposition**

_There’s a strange misconception that healers are mild, gentle souls who live only to relieve the pain of others. I can’t imagine where people got that idea._

_Excerpt from ’Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

It had been such a promising day until it all went wrong. She’d taken care of a few business meetings, feeling quite pleased with herself and with the outcomes. There had been a delicious dinner at the Seven Veils, with some excellent wine and an adequate harpist. She’d bought a small, but quite valuable painting off a foolish halfling who clearly lacked the wits to recognize its true value. She’d had a pleasant bubble bath, and she had just stepped out of it and wrapped her naked body in a thick and fluffy white bathrobe, with a towel around her hair. 

There was a sudden, sucking sensation, centered in her midriff, and a blurring of her vision. Her eyes widened, and she raised her hands, prepared to face her attacker. There was nobody in the room with her though, she was all alone. Whatever the spell was doing, it was being cast from a distance, and there was no obvious way to counterspell it. Moreover, now she could sense its intent, and it wasn’t one of direct harm. 

_Very well then_ , She thought, reaching out for the item on the dresser next to her. _Have it your way._ Her fingers closed around the smooth handle, and when the spell took hold of her and whisked her through a wildly spinning tunnel of stars and darkened mirrors there was a small smile on her lips. Her arm was already being brought around for a vicious blow even as her feet touched ground again, and sparks of negative energy were leaping off the fingers of her other hand, powerful enough to bring even a strong warrior to his knees. 

”Woah!” The person in front of her yelled, jumping backwards and just barely avoiding having her face bashed into a bloody pulp. ”Nice to see you too, Vic.”

”Zaerini?” Viconia said, her voice sharp with surprise. The spell winked out and she allowed herself to ease the grip on her enchanted mace just a little. Yes, it was the half-elf bard, her twice saviour. _Not an attack then. A summoning spell, and a powerful one. But where have I been brought? A dark place, yes._ That was no big surprise, the half-elf frequently traveled dangerous roads. _And I am no stranger to darkness._ There were other people here as well, people she knew from before. The addled ranger, the arrogant mage, the pink little thief, and one stranger. A strong warrior, from the looks of it, even if he was wearing comically mismatched armour. No sign of the druid or the pompous Helmite. ”What is this place?”

”That’s kind of a long story,” Zaerini said with an apologetic grin. ”Do you always take your weapons with you to your bath?”

”Of course,” Viconia stated. ”In the Underdark, you either learn to be prepared for an assassin at all times, or you suffer the rather messy consequences.”

”A wise course of action,” The tall warrior boomed at her. ”You might indeed be suitable company for myself and my sister.”

”Oh, that is so kind of you,” Viconia said, her lower lip curling into what could almost be mistaken for a smile. Then the implication of the statement struck home. ”Sister?”

”Afraid so,” Imoen said with a small sigh. ”That’s also a pretty long story, and not a very funny one.”

”Well, fill me in then,” Viconia said, crossing her arms across her chest. ”Succinctly if you please. I need to dry my hair before it gets a nasty snarl.”

The story took somewhat longer than Viconia had expected, and at the end of it her long mane of white hair had been restored to at least a reasonable state of affairs, although she felt a mirror would be necessary as soon as possible. ”And so you decided to summon me into the Abyss in order to go chasing off on some mad and dangerous quest involving Bhaalspawn and Red Wizards,” She said, raising an eyebrow. ”I can’t think why that wouldn’t make me feel thrilled.”

”Sorry,” Zaerini said, spreading her hands. ”There wasn’t really a way to ask you without bringing you here, you see. If you won’t come, I’ll put you back where you were…somehow.”

”Never mind that, _abbil_ ,” Viconia said with a small smile. ”I was beginning to get bored with Athkatla anyway. Higgold and Rose should manage the theatre just fine in our absence. I stand at your disposal.”

”You’ll come?!” Imoen hooted with glee and throw herself at the surprised Drow, giving her an enthusiastic hug. ”That’s great! We’re all set now, group hugs everyone!”

”Red Wizards of Thay do not participate in undignified outbursts of sickening sweetness!”

”Sarevok is the undisputed Terror of the Sword Coast, he does not ’grouphug’!”

”Minsc will hug all his little friends, and Boo too! GROUPHUGS!”

”No!” Viconia tried to protest, but before she could get another word out she was already being squeezed until she started to wonder just how flat a Drow could become and still stay alive. Just when she thought she was about to find out, she was finally released, her ribs creaking with every breath she took. 

”Anyway,” Zaerini said after all the limbs of the party had been disentangled, ”You’re not the ’Terror of the Sword Coast, brother dear. I believe that title belongs to me.”

Sarevok snorted. ”A terror? You? You wouldn’t be able to terrorize a butterfly, even if it was a butterfly with a strange and inexplicable phobia against small, redheaded women.”

”You wouldn’t say that if you’d seen her rip a vampire to pieces with her bare claws,” Imoen said, smiling sweetly. ”I wouldn’t annoy her if I was you.”

”I am too,” Zaerini retorted. ”According to some at least. Others used ’Hero of the Sword Coast’ instead. I guess it depends on who you ask. The kobolds would probably go for ’Terror’.”

”Ha! It would make sense, a kobold would be just about on your level!”

”Oh? Then what would that make the person who got _killed_ by me?”

Viconia ignored the verbal sparring, busying herself with digging through the generously stocked Bags of Holding at her disposal. Her old companion had certainly been busy, it was a veritable treasure trove of armour, weapons and magical trinkets. Finally she was satisfied, and nodded as she adjusted the final straps of her new armour. It was a pure midnight black, made from dragonscales linked together to provide both protection and flexibility. She had selected gloves and boots of darkened steel, and a light but finely enchanted helmet. There was an excellent shield as well, made to her size.

_Perfect. All of it high quality, and it even…_

”Hold on there!” Sarevok said, sounding rather annoyed. ”How is it that _her_ armour magically matches?”

”I’m a Drow,” Viconia said, taking care to sound very placid, nearly bored about it. ”Unlike lumbering humans, we are naturally stylish.”

”Or, it could be because most armour isn’t made to your size, Big Brother,” Zaerini said. ”We spent a lot of time around Drow and elves though, there’s probably stuff enough to outfit an elven army in those bags.” She rubbed her hands together. ”Right, introductions sorted, outfitting sorted. Shall we get started?” She stepped over to one of the silver portals hanging in the air around the stone platform where they were standing. 

”Yes,” Sarevok said. ”You need to bend the first one to your will, before you can pass freely in and out of this place. Step carefully, there may be any manner of challenge inside.”

”Oh good. That’ll be a change. Let’s see what we get then.” Zaerini reached out a hand to touch the swirling surface of the portal, and as she did so it changed, spreading wide, opening itself to encompass the world. Silver mists passed through, above, beyond, and then they were gone, the world was changed. 

They were in a room, an ordinary enough room at first glance. There was a bed, a table, a couple of chairs, a candle and some plates on the table. A half-eaten meal, bread, a fried egg, some strips of bacon. There were a few drops of blood on the plate, running into the grease, spreading out in lazy swirls. There was a faint noise as well, almost inaudible, but enough to make Viconia’s ears strain. Whimpering, faint and almost inaudible. And here, yes, here was a man. A young human, with a pleasant face, shining brown hair and clear blue eyes. There was a small wound along his jaw, where perhaps he had cut himself while shaving. 

”Hello,” He said. ”You’re new, aren’t you? I don’t recognize you.”

”Yes,” Zaerini said, warily keeping her distance. ”Who are you?”

The young man thought for a moment, then shrugged and smiled. ”You know, I can’t remember. I don’t think it’s very important, not really. The important thing is what I’m here to teach you.”

”And what is that?” Viconia asked, not taking her eyes off him. He hadn’t made any threatening moves yet, but all her instincts were screaming at her. There was something about the look in those clear blue eyes, something that reminded her of home. 

”How easy it all is, when you take it step by step,” The young man said. ”You start small, you see. With a mosquito, perhaps.” He slammed his hand down on the table, then held it up with a friendly grin, showing off the bloody smudge on the palm. ”Ok, maybe not quite that small. A mosquito doesn’t do that much for us. Dogs maybe, or cats. Birds, or mice. Small, furry things which wriggle and squeak. Each one a mystery, and one you can easily solve.”

”Yes, that is infinitely fascinating,” Edwin said, ”But we really didn’t come here to discuss your past pets. I suggest you get on with it, before we lose our patience.”

”Um, Eddie…” Zaerini said, in a subdued, sickened voice. ”I don’t think they were his pets, exactly.”

”What?” The Red Wizard said, frowning. ”But…” He suddenly swallowed hard, his face going a pale shade of yellow. ”Oh. But that is…”

”Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

”And then, one day, the animals aren’t enough,” The young man said, ignoring the interruption. ”You find you need more, crave more. And there it is, an opportunity presents itself. Perhaps it is a robber, or an old beggar nobody cares about. Perhaps it’s a tramp off the streets, or a lost toddler.” He smiled again, that pleasant, oddly empty smile. ”You take the opportunity, and it is Good. It makes you stronger. You want more, you need more, you crave more. The blood demands it. Perhaps you seek a purpose as you slay, or perhaps you revel in the randomness of it all. It makes no matter. The blood will out. The blood will not be denied.”

”Are you one?” Imoen asked, her eyes wide but her voice steady. ”One of the Children of Bhaal?”

”Perhaps I am. Perhaps I was. Or perhaps not.” Again the pretty, empty smile, white teeth glistening against red lips. ”There are such as I among ordinary mortals, and is that not a greater horror than all the Children of Bhaal? How then can one also driven by divine compulsion resist the pull?”

”I can,” Zaerini said, her hands balled into fists. ”I’ve got to.”

”Perhaps.” The man licked his lips, licked the red away. ”We shall see. To go forward, Child of Bhaal, you must face the past. Do you wish to conquer the beast within? If so, you must admit her.” His voice turned into a low hiss, and he gradually became transparent, fading away into nothing. ”Face the past, Child of Bhaal. Face it, or die.” 

It was then that Viconia realized what had been missing from the so very ordinary room all along. There were no doors, and no windows. To be exact, there hadn’t been any doors, not until now. Now, they were opening, on either side of the group of adventurers, large doors behind which she could only see darkness. She could hear movement within though, shuffling feet, snarls and hisses, and pitiful whimpers. Whatever was in there, there was a lot of them, and they didn’t sound happy. 

_Oh. Lovely. And to think that this day began so well._

”What is that?” Viconia asked, her lower lip curling with disdain. ”A peculiar form of rodent?”

”Um, no,” Zaerini said, staring at the spectre standing in front of her. It was a scrawny man, with really bad teeth and shabby clothes, inexpertly clutching a rather cheap-looking dagger in front of him. A second man, equally disheveled, shuffled up behind him, wiping a string of thick, yellow snot away from his nose with a filthy sleeve. ”That’s what’s-his-name…the first assassin Sarevok sent after me. And the second one.”

All of the party turned to look at Sarevok, their faces displaying expressions varying from contempt, to pity, to utter bafflement. 

”Look, there was a discount to be had!” The large warrior said. ”Two bargain-bin assassins for the price of one. I’d spent quite a lot on the iron poisoning scheme and it seemed like a good deal.” He sniffed the air. ”I don’t remember them smelling quite that bad.” 

”Hurrrh, look Shank!” The first scarecrow said. ”It’s Gorion’s child!”

”I know that, Carbos,” Said the second. ”An’ you know what to do with Gorion’s child, right?”

”Here it comes…” Imoen murmured. 

”Stick ’er!” They both intoned together, lumbering forward with their daggers stretched out in front of them. 

”Out of my way, fools,” Sarevok impatiently said. A single swift stroke of his huge sword cleaved both the would-be assassins in half, leaving their torsos twitching on the ground, even as their legs continued to walk. ”Consider that your early retirement from my service, ha!”

”Having fun sacrificing old minions, Big Brother?” Rini said with a quick grin. ”Feel free to…” She trailed off, staring at the two dead men. Legs and bodies were melting into gooey puddles, merging, reforming. There was a horrible, thick ’slurp’, and then Carbos and Shank were on their feet again, staring vacantly at her. ”Oh. Should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.” 

A few decapitations, mutilations, and gory dismemberments later, Rini found herself grappling with the right half of Carbos’ body, sadly the one still trying to insert the pointy end of its dagger into her vital organs. The left half was spinning in circles, trying to catch Imoen, and reminded her vaguely of a kitten chasing its own tail. A very ugly, mutilated and homicidal kitten, that was. Meanwhile, Shank’s body was crawling around on the floor, looking for its head. Sarevok and Minsc seemed to have taken up a form of contest, seeing who could first knock it off and bat it with their sword between the corpse’s legs. So far Minsc was leading two to one, but Sarevok was determined to catch up. 

”Will you fools just kill these things and stop playing around?!” Viconia hissed. ”I’m running low on healing spells, they may not look like much but they still hurt.”

”If you insist,” Edwin said, and there was a short, but very focused ’fwwooosh’ as a beam of white fire struck and incincerated Shank’s corpse, just barely avoiding burning the left side of Sarevok’s face off. ”Finally the melee monkeys give me a clear shot, and Edwin Odesseiron triumphs as always.”

”That’s great,” Rini panted, sending a stream of Magic Missiles up the flaring nostrils of the corpse she was fighting. ”Now how about getting this thing off me?” Minsc helpfully yanked the Carbos-thing off her, proceeding to chop it into very tiny bits. They did still move and try to reform, but that process was halted rather quickly when Viconia stepped out to lay a slim hand on the shoulder of the remaining half of the corpse. It screamed, a shrill, pained cry, and shriveled. As it fell, the crawling little bits of corpse stopped moving, melting into an inert puddle of meatpaste. 

”Finally!” Viconia said. ”Now, can we get on with things?” Then she blinked, as there was a hissing, yipping sound from the nearby portals. ”What was that?”

”Uh-oh…” Rini said, staring into the darkness. ”I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

”If we started out with Carbos and Shank,” Imoen said, her face going pale. ”Then what’s up next has to be…”

”Fire kobolds!” Edwin said, pointing a trembling finger at the portals. ”A lot of fire kobolds!”

_Great_ , Rini thought as the snarling, yipping horde of hundreds of kobolds came pouring out of the portals and the first fire-arrows barely missed her. _So much for nostalgia. If it’s beefed up Xvarts next, and if they start singing, then I don’t care anymore, I’ll just go Slayer and consequences be damned._

It wasn’t Xvarts, fortunately enough. After the powered-up kobolds a sequence of other monsters followed, progressing over bandits and drow, to vampires and werewolves, and finally ending with a rather realistic fight with clones of Bodhi and Irenicus. They weren’t as powerful as the originals had been, but after the fight Viconia was still clean out of healing spells. 

”So,” Imoen said, wiping werewolf blood out of her hair. ”Any deep Bhaalspawn insights to be had from this, Rini? Lessons of life, kind of thing?”

”Yes,” Rini said, nodding vigorously. ”I still hate kobolds with fire-arrows, and they all need to be exterminated. Apart from that, nothing much.”

”Even so, you have faced your past,” Sarevok said. ”You should now be able to bring us out of this pocketplane, and to whichever place you most need to be at this time.”

”Thay, at last!” Edwin said, rubbing his hands. ”Civilization, after all this time amongst unwashed barbarians. (Apart from her. Her smell is just right.)”

”One thing first,” Rini said. She concentrated, and the air shimmered over a small spot on the ground in front of her. Then a small black cat was lying at her feet, purring with her eyes closed. An even smaller monkey was sitting curled up against the cat’s side, gently scratching her ears. ”Er, Softy? Is this a bad time?”

The familiar opened her eyes, startled and hissed as she leapt into the air, making Insufferable do a tumble. The little monkey got to its feet immediately, giving the party a cheeky grin before leaping onto Edwin’s shoulder and showing Sarevok his bottom. Softpaws’ eyes were very wide, and her mental voice sounded rather stretched. 

_You can’t prove a thing! You didn’t see anything! That didn’t just happen!_

_Uh huh. Is Suffy good at scratching, then?_

_I have no comments to make, and I’ll scratch out the eyes of that horrible little monkey if he ever mentions this thing which never happened again._

Insufferable smirked from Edwin’s shoulder, looking just as satisfied with himself as the wizard ever did. 

_Fine. Ready to go kill things?_

_Yes. Monkeys?_

_Probably not, no._

_It will have to do anyway._

Still smiling, Rini thought on how to proceed. She hadn’t understood it before, but Sarevok had been right – the fight had triggered something within her. She could feel the power, lurking inside, waiting to be used. Need, that was the key. She needed to be somewhere, urgently. She needed the pocketplane to take her there, to open in just the right spot. It was happening, she could feel reality shifting around her, like a lump of dough being kneaded into a different shape. ”Hold on!” She told her friends. ”We’re off, off and away.” 

For a brief moment, there was nothing. No sight, no sound, no sense of smell. Then it all returned, noises crashing into her ears. Angry voices, crashes and booms. Smells of smoke and sulphur. That all seemed like proper Red Wizard attributes. Then sight returned as well. She was standing in a street, outside a tall building. The sky was red, and there was something burning not far off. Now and then there were explosions, though she couldn’t tell where they were coming from. A group of orcs were standing on the stairs of the tall building, glaring at some humans standing in front of Rini and her companions. Nothing out of the ordinary about most of the humans, they looked like moderately prosperous merchants and possibly a few nobles. One of them stood out, though. There was a tall woman standing at the front of the group, with long red hair and a skyblue magerobe, richly embroidered with silver. Whoever she was, she was very obviously the leader. 

”We demand to see Gromnir!” One of the other humans, a stout woman waved her fist at the orcs, ignoring the halberds pointed at her. ”We have a right!”

”Gromnir Il-Khan sees nobody,” The orc replied in a raspy voice, baring his tusks at the woman. ”Scatter, or be sorry.”

”You can’t do this!” Another human, a reedy old man complained. ”Our people are starving, the giants besiege our city, you must…”

”Must?” The orc said. ”Don’t think so. Now scram!”

”Please,” The redheaded woman said in a soothing voice. ”If you will only see reason, I am sure we can come to an agreement and…”

The orc noticed Rini and her friends at this point, and his confident grin turned into an angrly snarl. ” Intruders! Spies! The walls have been breached!”

The redheaded woman turned around, blue eyes widening with surprise as she saw the armed adventurers. ” What's this? A child of Bhaal appears from nowhere? Impossible! Unless...”

” Slay the invaders!” The orc shouted to his soldiers. ”Attack!”

” No!” The woman cried out. ”Hold your weapons! These might be allies, come to help!”

”Don't fall for their tricks! Kill them all and let the Gods sort them out!”

”I believe that would be our cue,” Edwin remarked, a powerful arch of lightning leaping from his fingertips. It bounced between the screaming orcs, literally cooking them alive as their metal armour conducted the electricity between them. After a few seconds, a pile of steaming corpses lay on the ground, and there was a rather appetizing smell in the air, reminiscent of roast pork. 

”The Not so Evil Wizard could save some for us, next time,” Minsc complained. ”There could have been a fun fight here.”

”Yes, well, I prefer to deal with the insignificant peons standing in the way of more important business in as swift and efficient a manner as possible, and…” The wizard looked around and frowned. ”This is not Thay.” 

”It’s not?” Rini said, her heart sinking a little. ”I mean, I guess you’d know, but I thought we’d go where we needed to be the most, and I just assumed…” She turned to the redheaded woman, the sole remaining alive person who might answer a few questions. ”Hi. Sorry about the mess, but they did start it. Would you mind telling us where we are, please?”

The woman smiled, looking genuinely pleased to see her. ” Greetings, Zaerini of Candlekeep. I am Melissan - a friend. Welcome to Saradush. I regret your first encounter in this town was so... bloody.”

”Woah there,” Imoen said, giving the woman a suspicious look. ”How do you know her name?”

” I have watched the events of your life quite closely, Zaerini”, the woman said, ignoring Imoen, ”as I do with all the progeny of the Lord of Murder.” She looked suddenly sad. ”I have seen many of your kin slain over these past months.”

_Watching me. Lovely. But at least she hasn’t abducted and tortured me, so it’s a step up, I guess._

”I think you’ve got a few things to tell me, Melissan” Rini said, cautiously watching the woman. She was standing with her hands neatly folded in front of her, showing no sign of intending anything hostile. There was a screeching sound in the air, and the half-elf just had time to leap to one side before a large fireball struck the ground where she’d been standing, the impact so strong that she nearly lost her balance. She blinked and shook her head to try to stop her ears from ringing. ”And if you don’t mind, I’d like to hear the rest of your story indoors.”


	5. Extermination and Obfuscation

**Throne of Cards 5 – Extermination and Obfuscation**

_Divination magic really is the fine art of pulling some sort of sense out of pure gibberish, by force if necessary. Unfortunately, even the odd clear nugget of information can sound like gibberish at the time._

_Excerpt from ’Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

”Tea?” Melissan said with a friendly smile. ”I’m afraid we’re entirely out of sugar, this terrible siege has lasted for quite some time now.” 

”Not for me, thanks,” Zaerini said, watching the other woman as she poured some tea from a dainty pot decorated with blue roses. Now that they were sitting down calmly in a rather fine inn rather than trying to avoid flaming projectiles, she finally had the chance to get a good look at the selfproclaimed guardian of the Children of Bhaal. Melissan was one of those people whom it is hard to put an age to. She had a smooth face, handsome rather than beautiful, showing no wrinkles, but she had a certain sense of authority about her fitting a more mature woman. Her blue magerobe was of a modest cut, but finely made, and her dark red hair was neatly styled. So, not a flashy woman, but careful about the way she presented herself. Possibly a noblewoman? Rini was reminded of Nalia De’Arnise, and her fondness for helping ’the needy’. Perhaps this Melissan was another noble with a pet project? It would fit. ”So, if you wouldn’t mind telling us...”

”Cookies?” Melissan asked, still smiling. She held out a plate with some chocolate cookies on it. ”They’re freshly baked.”

”Um, no thanks, and didn’t you just say you were out of sugar?”

”Oh yes,” Melissan said, not missing a beat. ”They’re made with a kind of artificial sweetener…but never mind my chattering, what must you think of me? You must have so many questions, and here I’m prattling on about cookies. Please, ask me whatever you want and I shall do my best to answer.”

”You might start with telling us where we are,” Viconia said. ”And also who is responsible for this siege you keep mentioning.”

”Of course. This is the city of Saradush, within the nation of Tethyr. Perhaps you have heard of it?”

_We didn’t travel very far then_ , Rini mused. _Did I mess it up, or is there really something we need to do here?_

”And the siege?” Sarevok said with a frown. ”I thought I could hear a roar from without the city walls, and it wasn’t the catapults.”

”Oh yes. That would be the fire giants.”

”Fire giants?!” Imoen said, spraying cookie crumbs into Melissan’s face. The mage’s smile cracked a little at the edges as she pulled a dainty handkerchief out of her pocket and wiped herself off. 

”Yes, fire giants. Their leader is Yaga-Shura, a very powerful Bhaalspawn, one of the most powerful who exist.”

”I guess Bhaal really got around,” Rini mumbled, not wanting to think too hard or too long about her dead sire in naked giantform. ”So this Yaga-Shura, he’s doing the ’take over the world’ routine, am I right?”

”Yes. First he would prefer to kill all the Bhaalspawn within this city, however.” Melissan gave a sad sigh. ”I fear I am partially to blame for this situation. You see, I find the prophecies of Alaundo and the Children of Bhaal quite fascinating. I have studied them for several years, and then I found myself with the happy opportunity to meet some of the Children in person. I knew then that they had been unjustly persecuted, vilified and slandered.”

”Apart from the ones who really do try to take over the world,” Imoen said with a pointed look at Sarevok. 

”And would have succeeded too, if not for you meddling little brats and your pet cat!”

”Well,” Melissan went on, ”I have enough funds and time to spare that I thought I might make a difference. I wished to make a safe haven for the Children, and I chose Saradush.”

”Out of the goodness of your heart,” Edwin said with a small sneer. ”How very altruistic of you.”

”Perhaps not entirely. I do want to carry on with my studies after all, and what better way to ensure that than to make certain as many of the Children are kept safe as possible?”

”What kind of studies would those be?” Rini asked. ”If you want to get near me with any needles, cages or other sharp things, you’ll have to fight me. Just so you know, I’ve had enough of ’experiments’.”

”Goodness, no!” Melissan said, sounding honestly shocked. ”Nothing like that, nothing intrusive. If you don’t believe me, there are many Children in the city, and you can ask them to confirm that I have done nothing of the sort.”

”We will,” Viconia said, a small and cold smile on her lips. ”Let us hope we will like the answers.”

”As I said, ask whomever you please.” Melissan leaned forward a little, her clear blue eyes boring into Rini’s own. ”I sincerly hope you will choose to trust me. Saradush, and all the people within it, are in terrible danger. You may very well be the only hope of salvation.”

”Me?” Rini couldn’t help snorting a little. ”Look, I think you’ve got the wrong person if you want me to take on a whole army of firegiants. I’m not that kind of Bhaalspawn. You probably want….some kind of gleaming paladin hero with a body like a marble statue and glittering cerulean orbs of goodness. Holy radiance coming out of every pore, that kind of thing.”

”You misunderstand,” Melissan said, her voice low and sincere. ”It would be entirely too dangerous, I quite agree. And there is in fact just such a hero within the city.”

”Well, take it up with him then!” Edwin snapped. ”No doubt he’ll come running with his heroic tongue at knee-level, frantic to dash out and heroically get himself killed.”

”Minsc will be happy to help as always, but the Not-So-Evil Wizard should not put himself down, Boo says he has plenty of heroic berserker fury within his scrawny chest!”

”No, I do not! And my chest is not scrawny, it is perfectly proportional and elegantly sculpted. (The marble statue might be a suitable description, but I will pass on the orbs.)”

”Ahem…” Melissan said, looking a little desperate. ”That is not what I meant. The hero I speak of is the great Champion of the Bhaalspawn within Saradush, our local hero, the stupendous warrior Gromnir Il-Khan.”

”Who?” Rini said, feeling a little baffled. She was feeling a little insulted too, actually. _Ok, yes, everybody asking for help can get a bit much, but being overlooked for somebody called ’Gromnir’?_

”Never heard of him,” Sarevok said with a dismissive growl. ”He can’t be that stupendous.”

”So, why don’t you ask this Gromnir?” Imoen asked. 

”Because,” Melissan said, ”Regrettably the strain of the siege, the traitors within the walls of the city, the constant attacks and the lack of sugar have become too much. As I am certain you know, many Bhaalspawn easily succumb to paranoia and hostile emotions about their siblings…”

”It’s not paranoia if they really _are_ out to kill you!” Sarevok and Rini said at the same time. The large warrior coughed and looked mildly embarrassed, but when Rini grinned at him she thought she could see his lips quirk upwards. 

”Perhaps. Even so, I fear Gromnir has barricaded himself within the military quarters granted for him and his troops when he first came to the city’s defense. He sees nobody, he communicates with nobody, and he will not give us the aid we so desperately need. We must convince him to help, I fear Gromnir is the only one strong and fierce enough to face Yaga-Shura and prevail.”

”Fascinating,” Edwin said with a bored glance at his immaculate fingernails. ”I am sure this would make a riveting story for somebody with the least bit of interest in whether you all live or die. Meanwhile, we have some important matters to attend to, places to go, people to see, so we really must be going.”

”I’m afraid not,” Melissan said with a small and rather pleased smile. ”You see, the city leaders – all of whom are kind enough to consult with me from time to time – have a magical shield in place around the city. It helps protect against Yaga-Shura’s attacks, but one side-effect is a complete block against all forms of teleportation magic.”

”Hold on,” Viconia said with, frowning. ”We just teleported into the city, with no apparent difficulty.”

”Yes, because the attacks were particularly fierce, and the shield faltered for a brief time. It will be back in place now, and anybody trying to go through it would most likely end up with their internal organs scattered all across Faerun.” Melissan thoughtfully tapped her lips with her index finger. ”Of course, I might be persuaded to speak to the people in charge, and ask them to risk dropping the shield for long enough to let you teleport out again. Or you might try to go on foot, through Yaga-Shura’s army. It really is up to you.”

”Yes, yes, I get it,” Rini said with a sigh. She didn’t like having to admit it, but she was outmaneuvered here.

”I am sorry,” Melissan said, not sounding particularly sorry at all. ”But if you will not do this out of the goodness of your heart, then I feel I must offer other arguments. Gromnir may not be the hero Saradush wants right now, but he is the hero it deserves, and you must convince him to play his part.”

”I said all right!”

”Good,” Melissan said, with her pleasant smile back in place. ”Find Gromnir Il-Khan, Zaerini. And find him soon, because Saradush runs out of time.” The sound of a flaming boulder screaming through the air and exploding against the magical shield gave her words a certain finality. 

-*-

Meanwhile, in the forest of Tethyr, Illasera the Quick was limping slowly and painfully through the woods. She had applied some bandages and healing potions as soon as she had put enough distance between herself and Zaerini’s group, but it hadn’t been quite enough. She would need the services of a proper healer, and the sooner the better. 

_But first I have to get out of the damn forest._

She tried to ignore the heat and the flies buzzing around her head, crawling into her wounds despite her best efforts to slap them away. Their noise mingled with the dry rasping of her breath whistling through her sore and battered throat.

_I wonder if they laid any eggs already? I wonder if I can get to a healer before they hatch?_

Illasera swallowed hard, trying to force her mind away from that turn of thought. She would never have referred to herself as a sensitive soul, sensitive souls didn’t thrive in her profession, but the thought of maggots made her stomach heave. 

_No! Stop it! Think of something better. Think about revenge._

Yes, that was better, much better. Revenge was good. Zaerini had put up a good fight, a better fight than she’d expected. That little Bhaalspawn bitch had shown abilities Illasera hadn’t been prepared for. She had more companions than Illasera had been prepared for. 

_It seems there was a lot I was not prepared for. The joke was on me. But not next time._

Illasera smiled, her pale face twisting into a pained grimace. The buzzing of the flies grew louder and louder, eating its way into her brain, so low, so confident, so smug. 

_Oh no, not next time. We’ll meet again, Zaerini of Candlekeep, and we’ll see who’s surprised then._

-*-

”Well, that kinda sucks,” Imoen said once Melissan had left. ”But I guess we’re stuck here until we figure out how to do what she wants.”

”Seems that way,” Zaerini said with a nod. She gave Edwin an encouraging smile that almost, but not quite, managed to lift the wizard’s spirits a little. ”We’ve managed worse though. How hard can it be to talk some warrior hero into fighting? Normally they’re chomping at the bit to get out there and cleave some skulls. Don’t worry, we’ll make him come around. Before we go hunting for him we’d better stock up though. Siege or not, I bet there’s useful stuff for adventurers just waiting to be had here.”

”You mean ’bought’ don’t you?” Edwin asked her, feeling rather suspicious. Much as he adored his lover, sometimes she had a dangerously loose interpretation of what ’shopping’ was supposed to mean. ”We really don’t want you to end up in jail.”

”Eddie! I’m shocked you’d even suggest such a thing. Of course I won’t end up in jail.”

”Good, because…”

”I’m way too fast for that,” She said with a wide grin, tickling his chin in a manner that made the wizard want to kiss her and throttle her at the same time. 

”That is not the point, you hopelessly reckless little…rogue! Suppose you try to steal from some wizard who has put spells of protection on his goods? You could end up a wet spot on the pavement. (My poor nerves are already frayed to pieces, and she would add to the dissolution?)”

”I thought you lot had plundered quite a few treasures by now,” Sarevok said, frowning. ”Are you telling me you don’t have any money?”

”Sure we’ve got money,” Zaerini said with a shrug. ”But I’d prefer to spend that on stuff I _can’t_ pickpocket. You did want a new suit of armour, didn’t you?”

”Fair enough,” The large man said. ”If you do get caught, I expect you to lop off their heads before you let yourself get arrested, remember that. I will not see you disgrace yourself by surrendering. In fact, perhaps I ought to accompany you.” He smiled a proud smile. ”I am well versed in the arts of subterfuge and stealth, I would have made a fine rogue myself had I felt so inclined.”

”Yeeeaaah…” Zaerini said. ”Let’s talk about that some other time, ’Koveras’. Before we do anything else, even shopping, I figure we all need some rest. It’s been a long day. Let’s go get some rooms, and hope there are some close to the ground in case of any more light showers of fireballs.”

The siege meant that most of the rooms in the inn were already booked, but the day’s casualties meant that some of those rooms had conveniently become available. The accommodations were not up to Edwin’s standards, but then again few were. _Barely a decent bed since I left Thay. I’m sure my spine must have developed a few incurable lumps by now._ He busied himself with a few minor, but very useful cantrips before he allowed Zaerini to touch anything in the room, making certain all vermin had been thoroughly scourged. 

”You’ll have to teach me those some day,” His lover said as she sat down on the bed next to him and started brushing her tangled hair. ”How come you know something like that? I wouldn’t have expected it, with you growing up in a grand mansion.”

”Before we left Thay…Father insisted on me learning them,” Edwin said, fighting to get the words past the hot lump in his throat. ”I said that it was surely unnecessary, and that we would be traveling in style. And _he_ said that if I wanted to play at being a secret agent I was free to do so, but I shouldn’t expect luxuries wherever I lay my secret head down to rest, and that he’d be damned if his terms of service included picking fleas out of my hair.”

Zaerini didn’t reply at once, but she scooted over closer to him and grasped his hand, squeezing it. He squeezed back, letting the sensation of her small, warm hand in his wash over him. It felt like an anchor, the one solid point in the horrible mess his world had become. 

”Any change?” She eventually said. 

Edwin’s free hand reached up to touch the thin chain around his neck. He pulled the amulet out, shivering a little as he touched the red stone, still cold and dark. Now and then he thought he could see a tiny flicker of fire deep inside its depths, but so far away and out of reach. 

”None,” He said, and now his voice was cracking, but it didn’t matter anymore, because she was the only person there to hear it. 

”Edwin…” She said, pulling him closer, stroking his back. ”We _will_ fix this. I promise. I’ll do anything I can.” She gave a small sigh of frustration. ”If only I hadn’t managed to dump us in a city besieged by giants. But we’ll sort it out. First thing tomorrow we’ll get to work on it.” She pulled his head closer, her lips brushing against his cheek. ”And there’s one thing I can do tonight. I know I didn’t get anything useful before, but it can’t hurt to do another Reading.”

”Now?” Edwin asked, trying to clear his throat. ”Are you sure? It’s been a long day, I don’t want you to overexert yourself.”

”Yep, I’m sure. I’m a bit tired, but not too bad, I can handle it.” She kissed him again, on the lips this time, then jumped to her feet and hurried over to the backpack she had thrown in the corner of the room. ”Here we are,” She said after digging around in it for a minute or two. ”One deck of cards, as ordered.” She sat down crosslegged on the bed, shuffling the cards quickly. ”Let’s see. I’ll look for Vadrak, but I’ll look for a way to solve the Gromnir problem too. Maybe some general scrying as well. That way, I’m almost bound to pick up something useful.” 

”Very well,” Edwin said, trying to force the tiny, burning star of hope within his soul to calm down. _Don’t expect too much. You’re only setting yourself up for disappointment._ ”What can I do to help?”

”Just stay close to me,” She said, her golden eyes already becoming a little distant as she spread the cards out on the bed. The painted images meant little to Edwin, but she clearly could see hidden meaning in them. ”If something seems to be wrong with me, shake me out of it. And try to focus on…what you want me to find…” He voice trailed off, and her hands stilled, fingertips still lightly touching the cards. Edwin bit his lip, waiting for another word, but none came. Then he settled down, holding her hand in his now, his fingers folded tightly around hers. Outside, the day slowly gave way to twilight, and then to darkness. Edwin didn’t care, and in fact barely noticed. The wait might be short, or it might be long, but until she was fully back with him he would not leave his lover’s side.

-*-

Floating in an empty void, Zaerini bided her time. They would come to her soon, they always did in the end. She still didn’t know exactly how it worked, but the important thing was that it did. She focused her power, trying to concentrate on the things she needed to know. _Need. Want._

Yes, here they were now, appearing out of the darkness. The Moon hung full and low above her, the Lovers in front. The Warrior and the High Priestess came next. Finally, the Empress and the Rogue. No, wait. Something strange there, the Empress seemed oddly blurred…doubled. But that was for later. She observed the first cards closely, trying not to miss any details, and then felt her cheeks heat up a little. 

In the pale light of the Moon, the two Lovers were a blur of white skin and tangled limbs, sliding sensuously against each other in a close embrace. Wrapped up in each other as they were, they still turned towards her, their smiles displaying white and sharp teeth. 

”Vampires…” She whispered, her throat suddenly feeling very dry. ”Not again. I want nothing more to do with vampires.”

”It matters not what you want,” said the first vampire, green eyes steadily gazing into hers. ”This is what is, and what must be.”

”Who knows,” The second vampire said, golden curls sliding across a white shoulder. ”It might even be fun!”

”The Moon means deceit,” Rini said, crossing her arms across her chest. ”I don’t trust you.” 

”You may have to.”

”And you do have to find us, to get where you want to go.” She startled as a cold finger trailed across her neck, and a voice without breath spoke directly into her ear. ”You won’t have to go far. We’re very close to you already.”

_Great. That makes me feel so much better._

There was laughter in the air, amused and slightly patronizing. She blinked and the two vampires were gone, as if they had turned into mist and floated away. 

_I’ll worry about them later, when I’m done with this. Let’s have a look at the next set._

This did seem more promising, even if the meaning wasn’t obvious. The Warrior towered above her, a mountain of a man covered in full plate armour, its colour a sooty black and flecked with blood, the visor down to hide his face. He held an axe almost as tall as he was, and when she floated closer to him he growled. It was the sound of some large beast, too angered and hurt to care about what it attacked anymore. 

_The Warrior…could it be Sarevok? But no, that doesn’t seem right, somehow. And I think by now I’d recognize my brother anywhere, in any form._

”Gromnir?” She asked. ”Is that you?”

The huge man did not reply, but the dark helmet bent down in a nod. 

”Can’t you speak? Why are you hiding?”

Again, there was reply, but a large hand reached for the visor, slowly pushing it open. Zaerini couldn’t hold back a small gasp of shock. There was no proper face inside the helmet, no living creature at all, only smooth and shapeless wood. The Warrior’s arms jerked into movement, raising the large axe, and now she could see the silver strings attached to them. Her gaze followed them into the air, even as the Warrior lumbered closer and closer to her. There was somebody there, a hazy shape far above them, tall and wrapped in a black cloak, the face impossible to make out. _The High Priestess?_

Before she could try to see more, there was an insistent tug on her arm, and a stinging pain. It was another silver string, with a wicked little hook on the end, worming itself into her flesh. The string jerked again, directing her to move as it pleased, forcing her to draw her sword. 

”No! I won’t be your puppet!”

”Far too late for that, little one,” a cold voice boomed from far above. ”You always were, you already are, and you will be in days yet to come. You cannot escape.”

_No_ , Rini told herself. _It’s only a vision. It’s not real._ She forced herself not to fight the strings, because if she got too worked up Edwin was sure to shake her awake. _And I can’t afford that. Not yet. There’s more to learn here._   
”You’re wrong,” She told the giant woman. ”I rule here, and I deny you any power over me. Go away.”

The strings stilled their movement, and their was a low and angry hiss, but the pain was fading away and she was free again. The High Priestess was gone, pulling the Warrior along after her. 

_The last group now, and the most important. Come on, let’s get some answers_. 

The Rogue looked much as she had seen him before in this place, a tall man dressed in black, the hood of his cloak pulled up to mostly hide his face. There were definitely two women flanking him, not just one as she had first thought. She did not recognize either one of them, but they were both well dressed, and wearing elegant magerobes. _Two Empresses. One red, one blue. Is that significant?_

”Tell me where you are,” She said. ”We will come help, as soon as we can.”

The Rogue did not reply, he simply raised his finger to his mouth, shaking his head. 

”What’s wrong? Where are you?”

”He is where he was, and not where he would be,” The Blue Empress said with an enigmatic smile. 

”He’s certainly not where he should be,” The Red Empress said with an angry frown. 

”I know where he is, but I will not tell you,” said the Blue Empress. 

”I know where he is not, and I will tell you,” said the Red Empress. 

”If you find him, you may regret it,” said the Blue Empress, digging her fingers into the man’s arm. 

”If you don’t find him you will regret it,” snarled the Red Empress. 

_I don’t think I really needed the cards to guess that much._ ”Fair enough,” Rini said, ignoring both women and speaking directly to the Rogue. ”One clear answer, please. No matter what, I know you can manage that much, if you really want to. Where are you?”

He simply looked at her for a moment, seeming to struggle with some inner compulsion. Finally he spoke, his face pale and twisted with terrible pain. 

”Under the hill.”

There was an angry scream, a large number of voices calling out at once, and then only silence and darkness.


	6. Curse the First

**Throne of Cards 6 – Curse the First**

_Curses! Curses! Now what to do?  
I’ve got a mess of a present for you.   
Curses! Curses! How to break free?  
If you are wise you won’t trust in me. _

_Excerpt from ’The Purple Perky Souleater, tales of practical demonology’_

”…so that wasn’t really helpful,” Zaerini finished her tale, giving her companions a rueful look. ”Sorry.”

”Not entirely true,” Viconia mused. She leaned her chin in her hand, thinking out loud. ”We now know that Gromnir is being manipulated by a force greater than himself, and that this force is also attempting to manipulate you.”

”Mmm, I guess that’s true. The trouble is I didn’t get any details.” Rini absently stroked Softpaws’ back, and her familiar purred loudly and stretched out on her lap. ”Melissan is trying to push us around, but she wants us to save the city, that’s inconvenient rather than sinister. The last vision wasn’t much better.” She gave Edwin a sidelong glance. The wizard was staring mutely at the table, barely paying attention to the conversation. _I need to distract him. Soon, and for several hours, until we’re both too out of breath to think of anything but each other._

_Don’t break the bed_ , Softpaws commented, tilting her head backwards with closed eyes. _Scratch my chin now. Yes, just like that._

”At least we know he isn’t dead,” Imoen said with what Rini thought sounded like forced cheerfulness. ”That counts for something, right?”

Edwin stayed silent. 

”And it’s not as if we can do anything about that situation right now anyway,” Sarevok said with a shrug. ”We need to focus on the mission at hand.”

Edwin’s cheek twitched a little, but he still stayed silent. 

”Boo says it might be a riddle,” Minsc chimed in. ”Minsc isn’t very good at riddles, except the one about the hamster crossing the road, but Boo says it probably doesn’t mean our friend is dead, or maybe only mostly dead.” He reached out a large hand to pat Edwin on the back. ”Mostly dead isn’t so bad as all dead, it still allows for warcries and warcries always help. You should try them, they always make me feel better. Make sure to stand with your legs heroically apart and thrust your nipples out like this…”

Edwin stood abruptly. ”I’m going out,” He said in a flat, even voice. Without further comment he strode out the door, not even bothering to slam it shut behind him. 

”I’d better go after him,” Rini said, leaping to her feet so quickly that a hissing Softpaws tumbled to the ground. The cat slunk away and hid under a sofa, looking very disgruntled. ”Minsc, come with me please. The rest of you can start looking for vampires, but don’t get bitten, ok? Just see if you can pick up any rumours, no crazy stunts.”

”’Course not, sis,” Imoen said, her blue eyes very wide and innocent. 

”Before the might of Sarevok a vampire is but an insect crawling in the dust! Fear not sister, the might of my strong arm will keep us safe.”

”I suppose he might be useful,” Viconia mused. ”If we do run into any vampires he should prove ample distraction.”

”Just…stay safe, ok?” Rini said. ”We’ll be back soon.” She hurried out the door, but her lover had already disappeared from sight. _Damn. Where to look? He said out, but where?_ She sighed. _Wait, I’m being stupid. This is Eddie. All I’ve got to do is follow the sound of explosions._

That turned out a little harder than she had expected, since the firegiants didn’t seem about to let up on their attacks any time soon. She kept as close to the walls of the houses as she could, not wanting to be out in the open. _Of course, if one of those big flaming rocks hits a house it could fall down on me. But it still feels better this way._ She didn’t see Edwin, but Saradush wasn’t that large a city and it wasn’t as if he knew anybody there. She’d just have to keep looking and hope he wouldn’t do anything too stupid before she found him. There were a few shops near the inn, and she decided to try there first, particularly since one of them was a shop run by a wizard. Edwin wasn’t there, but there were many nice scrolls, wands and magical gems to be had which might cheer him up when she found him. Surprisingly enough, the man wasn’t even asking very much for them, not so much that she minded paying. 

”I just want to clean out my stock,” The wizard muttered when she asked him about it. ”They’re all high quality but I can’t take it all with me when I go, and I haven’t got a moment to lose. I can’t leave yet. Not with It still here. I wish I…no! Nonononono, I didn’t say anything, I didn’t say anything at all, it doesn’t count!” There was a nervous tic in his right eyelid, and eyes were bloodshot as if he hadn’t slept properly for a week. _Poor guy. I guess this isn’t the most relaxing place to live right now._

”Do you have any hamster wheels?” Minsc asked, aiming a look of complete and innocent trust at the wizard. ”Boo finds them very soothing, they might be good for you too.”

The man simply blinked, and then went on speaking to Rini. ”Not as if I’ve got any other customers than you here. I can shift some of my stock, but not all. I may as well give some…some of the more obscure curios away.” He licked his lips. ”Yes. A free gift, for the things you’ve bought. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

”Um, I guess so, unless it’s something so big I can’t carry it. Or a Nether Scroll. I really don’t need another one of those.”

”Oh no. No, no, no, no, no. Not at all.” There was a feverish glint in the man’s eyes by now and he started digging around in a cupboard behind the counter. He was muttering to himself as he did so. ”Khiser’s gift, clever Khiser, just what I wanted, not what I needed. Pass it on, pass it along. Aha! No more of the scratching and scraping at the door.” He pressed a small object into Zaerini’s palm, grinning as he did so. ”All yours! Thankyouandgoodbyepleasedon’tcomeagain.” Gripping her arm tightly he guided her towards the door and she found herself in the street before she had the time to protest. He hadn’t even bothered to charge her for the scrolls, she realized. 

”Hey, wait!” Rini called out. ”I don’t even know what this is!” She started towards the shop again, intending to pull the door open, and nearly ran head first into a blank brick wall. 

”Oooh, a magical mystery shop!” Minsc exclaimed, clapping his hands. ”There are some in Rasheman. Dynaheir always said never to buy anything from there, they are frequently Evil and never trustworthy.”

”Oh. Good. Please remind me to be really, really careful if I ever go to Rasheman not to go shopping from the natives. Does it still count if I didn’t actually buy it? What is it anyway?” Rini opened her hand, looking at the small oblong object she was holding. ”Ew.” It was brown, and leathery, and it smelled a little bit like cinnamon and old leather. ”A monkey paw. All that noise, just so he could give me a mummified monkey paw?”

Minsc frowned at the disgusting little thing. ”That’s not a very nice present. Boo says he’d prefer nuts.”

”Yeah,” Zaerini said. ”I’m with Boo on that one. It looks magical, but I can’t tell what it does. Well, I’m not taking any chances. It could well be cursed.” She threw the monkey paw across her shoulder, grinning as she managed to aim it at the nose of a very ugly statue of a charging knight. ”Bullseye! Let’s go Minsc, I want to check if…” Here she broke off. She had stuck her hand in her pocket, only to feel her fingers close around a small, dry and wrinkled object. ”Ugh. Ok, that’s not nice.” As she pulled her hand out, her fears were confirmed. ”So you can’t throw it away. I guess that’s why he was so eager to make me take it for a gift. This is so embarrassing, getting scammed like that.”

”Minsc thinks his Witch should be very careful right about now, and Boo agrees. This monkey paw has the stench of Evil about it!”

”Smells more like stale old cookies to me. But don’t worry, I’m not casting any spells on it.” Rini thoughtfully tugged at a strand of her hair as she looked at the disgusting little thing. ”I’d better figure out a way to get rid of it too. It looks like you can give it away, but I can’t just give it to anybody. Maybe if we can find out where it comes from and what it does…what was that name he mentioned? Khiser? That’s it. Khiser. I wish we had some quick way of getting close to him, it wouldn’t surprise me if this is all his fault. Uh, Minsc? Is it just me or are the houses growing taller? Not to mention the people?”

”Giants! Oh the fiends, they are all giants in disguise hiding among us! THE GIANTS ARE COMING!”

”No Minsc, I don’t think…oh. Oh crap.” Rini closed her eyes, trying to ignore the horrible sucking feeling in her stomach and the way her legs seemed to be inserting themselves into her chest. When she opened them again, she felt more or less normal. The world seemed to have grown very noisy, with deep booming sounds in the distance and uneven ground. She took a step backward to try to get her bearings, and bumped into something. When she turned around, she was faced with the largest applecore she’d ever seen, as long as she was tall and with a few rather yucky worms as long as one of her arms. 

”Little Rini!” Minsc said, beaming at her. ”It is a miracle, a most powerful magic! Look, my trusty Boo has grown in size and is now as fierce in size as he has always been in his heart.”

”I’m afraid not, Minsc,” Rini said. She was trying to keep her voice calm, but what she really wanted to do was to scream in panic and run around in little circles. Boo looked back at her, his beady black eyes now as large as her fist. The hamster himself seemed somewhat larger than a horse.”It’s not Boo who’s grown bigger. I’m afraid we’ve shrunk down to hamstersize.”

”Oh,” Minsc said. He digested the statement for a moment, then nodded. ”Don’t worry, little Rini. Boo says he’s got seeds left at home, and he won’t mind sharing them or his nest in my pack.”

”Great,” Rini said, biting the scream back. She couldn’t afford to panic. Small panicking creatures had an even shorter life-expectancy than larger panicking ones. ”Nothing to worry about then.” The stupid monkey paw had shrunk along with them, it was still in her pocket. _No more wishes, at least not yet. This thing is bad news, who knows what will happen if I try to wish us bigger? Maybe we’ll become giants and part of the invading army or something. We’ll have to play this smart. Well, smarter than I did so far, at least._ She looked at the people passing in the street, or rather at their legs. It was like seeing very tall buildings moving about, and the ground shook whenever somebody came to close. ”Let’s get out of the way,” She said with a sigh. ”If I die by getting stepped upon, Sarevok will never stop laughing at me. I know I won’t be there to hear it, but still.” 

”Minsc knows what to do!” The ranger pointed at Boo, who watched the two shrunk people keenly, his whiskers twitching. ”We needn’t walk, we have a mighty hamster-steed to carry us swiftly wherever we wish.” Minsc had gone past ’eager’ now and was well into ’excited’, almost bouncing on his feet. ”Come little Rini!” He cried out, and before she could protest she’d already been lifted off the ground and landed on a soft, furry back. ”Tall or short, no evil shall stand against us, and the dastardly Monkey Paw Man must pay for his nefarious deeds. If need be, we shall bite his ankles with great ferocity. To the Hamster-Mobile!” He jumped up behind her, held on tightly to her waist, and before she had time to protest Boo had already taken off like a fluffy projectile towards places and fates unknown. 

-*-

There are people who in times of crisis face it with quiet introspection, perhaps with a solemn inner monologue about the inherent unfairness of life. There are people who valiantly attempt to forget their own sorrows by brightening the lives of those even less fortunate than themselves. Edwin Odesseiron much preferred to distract himself from the terrible worry gnawing his soul by blowing things up, preferably live things and preferably with very big explosions. Fortunately for him, being stuck in a city under siege offered many convenient targets. He walked at a brisk pace towards the city walls, trying his best not to think at all on his way there and failing miserably at it. The icy touch of his amulet against his skin was a constant reminder, and by the time he arrived, his already foul mood had devolved into a simmering fury. 

”You there, lazy peon!” Edwin snapped at the soldier standing guard by the entrance to the upper part of the walls. The fellow wasn’t so much standing at attention as slouching limply, and he gave the wizard a blank look which didn’t impress Edwin at all. ”I am Edwin Odesseiron, formidable warmage and scourge of giants, dragons and undead. I have come to join in the battle, so direct me to it.”

”You’ll be wanting the wizard Errard then,” The man said with a large yawn. ”Couple of younger wizards died this morning when the giants threw a rock on them so he’ll be pleased as a pig in mud to see you. It’s up this way, then to the right as you come out. Big fellow in orange robes, you can’t miss him.”

Edwin nodded curtly, then followed the directions given. As he reached the top of the stairs and stepped out onto the wall itself, he paused, his eyes widening a little as he took in the scene below him. The plains outside Saradush might once have been fertile fields, where farmers worked the land or herds grazed. Now, they were a blackened wasteland, so badly scourged by the giants that there was nothing left to burn. There were still fires in the far distance though, sending pillars of dark smoke towards an already clouded sky. His eyes stung as he breathed it in, and he couldn’t hold back a cough as the hot and dry air entered his lungs. And the giants…yes, here they were. Their army had apparently set up its main camp far enough from the walls that they’d be able to rest safely there, but there were still a large number of them closer by, perhaps preparing for another assault. Edwin had seen large monsters before, Firkraag for one, but he had never seen quite so many of them at one time. Each giant was at least twice as tall as a tall man, and far bulkier. They wore sooty grey or dull black armor, and many of them carried flaming swords. Others were gathering large piles of rocks, setting them on fire with a word here, a glance there. Some of the giants even seemed to be on fire themselves, surrounded by shimmering auras of rippling orange light. _Mages? Clerics, perhaps?_

He couldn’t see Yaga Shura himself, but he didn’t need to. The army was quite enough. So many giants, milling about like ants, if ants had been compact towering murderous monsters. Thousands of them, surely, and each one a match for many ordinary men. Edwin felt his hands curling into fists, his nails digging into the palms of his hands until it hurt. _There are far too many. We must find a way to leave this city before we all burn along with it._

-*-

”So…vampires,” Imoen mused. ”If I were a vampire, now where would I be?”

”Given that it’s still daylight, presumably in your coffin,” Viconia said with a small quirk of her lips. 

”Mmm, I guess so. I haven’t seen a graveyard around here, have any of you?”

”No,” Sarevok said. ”But vampires are not bound to reside in graveyards, any dwelling will do as long as they find it secure against daylight and intruders.”

”In a city under siege, that cannot be easy,” Viconia said. ”People will be more crowded together than usual, and with the constant risk of flaming rocks they will avoid the streets as much as possible. How are the vampires managing to hunt, and yet not be discovered?”

”Good question,” Imoen said. ”Let’s ask a few more.” She bounded up to a passing man and gave him her best and brightest smile. ”Hiya! Sorry to bother, I just wanted to ask if you’ve seen anything odd or scary lately.”

The man looked between the towering Sarevok glaring down at him and Viconia who was caressing the hilt of her mace with a small smile on her lips. ”You mean, other than right now?” He asked, nervously clearing his throat. 

”Don’t be a dolt,” Viconia said. ”She is referring to supernatural creatures. Demons, spirits and the like.”

”Oh!” The man said, visibly brightening. ”Why didn’t you say so at once? Sure, there’s a whole horde of them unholy creatures around, it isn’t right, that’s what I say. They’ll end up slaughtering us all in our sleep, you mark my words!”

”A terrible loss to contemplate,” Viconia said. ”So, where can we find the vampires?”

”Vampires?” The man blinked. ”I don’t know about any vampires!” He shook his head. ”I was talking about the Bhaalspawn, of course.” 

_Oh yes_ , Imoen thought. _Melissan talked about them, I should have guessed. We’d better check this out._ The idea of lots of other Bhaalspawn felt…strange. It had always just been Rini and herself, and Sarevok of course, and Imoen hadn’t even known about herself. It still was very weird to think about. She’d had some odd dreams, but those could just have been because of Irenicus and losing her soul and she hadn’t had any lately. The power though, that was very real and no trick. 

”Are you sorry you’re not a Bhaalspawn anymore, or are you happy about it?” She asked Sarevok as they walked along. He gave her a sharp look which she ignored. ”I only mean, I can see you might miss going all ’Raaargh I’m the Evil Overlord Bhaalspawn’ once you’re used to it, but on the other hand you won’t turn into a poof of ashes if you’re killed again. They sparkled a bit, did you know that? I think maybe that was magic. And also I guess you won’t get as many bad dreams, unless we let Minsc do the cooking again. Did you know that people in Rasheman eat _all_ parts of an animal? It was really gross, especially once he fried up this huge…”

”Thank you for reassuring me that my demise was suitably sparkly,” Sarevok said in a rather dry voice. ”And I do have unsettling dreams still, if you must know. Right now I’m having a nightmare about a conversation with a pink squirrel.”

”Aw, you love it really, you know you do!” Imoen grinned up at him. ”I mean, it must at least be nice to have some company not trying to kill you, right?”

”We’re here,” Viconia interrupted before Sarevok could answer the question. ”A sorry lot of misfits if ever I saw any. At least they are unlikely to turn their thoughts towards world domination any time soon.” 

Imoen silently had to agree that Viconia was probably right about that. The end of the street they’d been following had been blocked off with a makeshift barricade of broken furniture and chunks of rock, and a couple of city guards stood nervously at attention at either side of a narrow opening in it. The way their eyes darted across their shoulders and the way they clutched their pikes made Imoen wonder if they were expecting an attack from the front or the rear. Possibly both at the same time.   
Behind the barricade a group of people milled around aimlessly, or went in and out of the few houses huddled against the tall city walls. There were men and women, some older and some young, but no children. Most were humans, but Imoen could see a couple of elves, a small group of dwarves and a lone halfling. There was even a half-orc in there, a tall woman with bright green skin and muscles to rival Sarevok’s. Some of them looked sullen or angry, but most of them just looked very tired, as if they’d given up all hope. 

”These are the fierce Children of Bhaal?” Viconia said, raising an elegant white eyebrow. ”They look more like a bargain sale at the slavemarket.”

”Oh, they’re Bhaalspawn alright!” one of the guards reassured her. ”Now, you people look like you can take care of yourselves, but I’m warning you all the same if you’re thinking of going inside. Those things are dangerous.”

”Are they your prisoners?” Imoen asked. Her stomach was feeling hot all of a sudden, hot and twisted, and she thought her voice sounded a little odd. She took a step closer and looked the guard straight in the eyes. ”Because I think maybe I should tell you, I’m a Bhaalspawn too, and I don’t like the idea of being a prisoner. Not one bit. So if you want us to be friends, you probably shouldn’t try it. You want us to be friends, right?”

Imoen didn’t know what the guard saw as he looked at her, but he did go a funny shade of pale green. ”Y-yes,” He stammered. ”Of course.”

”You’d better listen to her,” Sarevok said. ”The fierce squirrel might decide to savage your ankles.” He placed an armored gauntlet heavily on the man’s shoulder. ”And I’d help with the top part.”

”They’re not prisoners!” The second guard squealed. ”Honestly. They’re Melissan’s pets…I mean guests, guests. She brought them here to keep them safe, though why she’d want to protect the spawn of Murder I don’t know. They can leave if they want to, ask them if you like! We’re not here to keep them in, we’re here to keep any townsfolk from making trouble. Most people don’t want them here.”

”We are not here to cause trouble,” Viconia said. ”You would know it if we were. Now let us pass, that we might speak to these fearsome Bhaalspawn.” 

The fearsome Bhaalspawn turned out to be pretty unwilling to speak to strangers, particularly ones wearing high quality weapons and armour. Several of them hurried into their assigned house the moment they saw the trio approaching and those who remained kept their distance. It took all of Imoen’s persistence to make a few of them speak with her.

”I don’t want any trouble!” A young woman with tangled brown hair sobbed. ”Honest, I never did! I never killed anybody, no matter what they say, but when Mama and Papa learnt what I was they threw me out of the house. I didn’t know where to go, but Lady Melissan came and she said she’d take me to a safe place where I could live in peace.”

”…except the safe place turned out to be under attack from giants,” Said a skinny man wearing a blacksmith’s apron. ”Some safe place. And now it’s too late to leave. They say the giants are lead by some powerful Bhaalspawn who wants to kill us all. They say that’s what all the powerful Bhaalspawn do, kill all the lesser ones.”

”Aw, that’s not true!” Imoen said, patting him on the arm. ”I mean, I’m a Bhaalspawn too, and at least sort of powerful I guess, and I’m not trying to kill you. And Sarevok is a Bhaalspawn, or at least used to be one, and he doesn’t want to kill you either, do you Sarevok?”

”Don’t I?” Sarevok growled.

”No he doesn’t,” Imoen decisively said. ”He doesn’t do that kind of stuff anymore, not since Rini and I…she’s a Bhaalspawn too, way more powerful than me…anyway he doesn’t do that kind of stuff since we killed him, see…”

The man made a faint gargling noise at the back of his throat and promptly fainted. 

”No wait!” Imoen said, trying to shake him awake. ”It was selfdefense, really it was!”

”You are wasting your time,” Viconia said. ”These people are too cowed to even look you in the eye.”

”Not all of us,” An amused voice said. Imoen looked down, and saw the halfling she’d noticed earlier. He was a rather scruffy fellow with a bald head and bright blue eyes. Unlike many of the other Bhaalspawn he was armed, with two long daggers hanging from his belt. ”Dickon Tompin at your service, but most people call me Dickon Sheeptoppler.” He grinned. ”Long story. Anyway, this lot are just grumbling. They don’t know how to get on in life, not like me and you. You take what you have and you make something from it, that’s what I always say.”

”And what do you have in Saradush?” Viconia asked. She was scrutinizing the halfling rather closely, Imoen thought, her eyes narrowed. 

”Free lodgings, free food from that Melissan lady, and plenty of business and entertainment both,” Dickon promply replied. ”Melissan’s cookies are great, almost halfling standard. Sure, the giants are a bit of a minus, but hey, I’m alive so far. Even if they do take the city I’m small and good at hiding. No reason why I shouldn’t be able to slip away. In the meantime I’m fine right here.”

”So it would seem,” Viconia said. She pointed an elegant finger at the side of the halfling’s grubby neck. ”A lovebite from a lucky halfling lady?”

”Heh,” Dickon said with another grin as he touched his neck. ”Those girls like it a bit rough, but it was worth every copper. Was so good I can’t remember half of it.”

He took his hand away, and now Imoen saw it too. Two small, neat puncture marks, slightly jagged at the edges, right above the halfling’s jugular. 

”I think,” Viconia said in a voice which was practically a purr, ”We would like to learn a bit more about these memorable ladies.”


	7. Wishes And Wizards

**Throne of Cards 7 – Wishes And Wizards**

_No matter how big a pile of poo you’re in, there’s always some way things can get worse._

_Excerpt from ’Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

”If I never see a pile of dogpoo the size of a large horse again, I’ll be really happy,” Zaerini said, trying to squeeze her nostrils shut without letting go of Boo’s fur. ”And that wasn’t a wish, just in case anybody’s listening!”

”Minsc doesn’t mind,” Minsc said cheerfully. ”The plains of Rasheman have many great herds of cattle and sheep, and riding or walking you learn to be wary of hidden danger.”

”Great. Just great.” _Can I wish I never have to go to Rasheman? Does it count if I don’t say it out loud?_

Boo suddenly stopped and sniffed the ground, forcing the two miniaturized riders to cling on for dear life or be thrown off his back. ”What is the matter, Boo?” Minsc asked, patting the hamster’s neck. ”Have you found the slimy trail left behind by Evil’s slug-like feet? Does it belong to our wicked adversary, the man who would curse innocent little monkeys?”

”I don’t think I’ve ever seen a slug with feet,” Rini commented, but she felt a cautious optimisim as she felt Boo’s fur rising under her hands. Whatever he’d found, he was definitely interested in it, and it wasn’t as if they knew where to go anyway. ”Can you tell him to follow it?”

Boo turned his head to watch it for a moment, and she felt oddly disconcerted as she saw her own image reflected in his shining black eye. For a moment, she’d almost thought she was being watched by something other than a hamster. Something old, and alien. _Don’t be stupid. It’s just because he’s bigger than you are._

”Of course, little Rini!” Minsc said. ”Boo, chase the Evil named Kiser down.”

”Minsc, we don’t even know if it’s Kiser’s trai…arrrrgh!” Boo was off again, running through the streets at what could best be described as a gallop. It involved more bouncing than Rini had experienced on top of a horse though, and by the time Boo stopped again she was starting to feel rather sick. She just had time to notice that they were outside a house – some kind of shop she thought, for there was a sign above the door. Then Boo squeezed both himself and his riders through the narrow crack where the door hadn’t been entirely shut, and they were inside. It was fairly dark, but she could make out enough to see that it did seem to be some sort of shop, or maybe a storage area. She didn’t see a counter, but there were many sacks and barrels lining the walls and the air smelled strongly of spices and herbs. Boo made a beeline for one of the sacks on the floor, and busied himself with claws and teeth at a small tear in the cloth. Finally he’d widened the hole enough to be content and happily stuffed his face until both his furry cheeks bulged. 

”Oh,” Rini said as she saw what had spilled out of the sack. Nuts. A yummy treat for a hamster of course, and maybe it wasn’t that strange that he’d managed to smell them, even from far away. ”Minsc, I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but…” Then she broke off. She’d read the text on the sack. The same text that had been written on all the sacks, and on the barrels as well. ’Property of Kiser Jhaeri’. _Holy hamster heroics…I can hardly believe it._

”Yes, little Rini?”

”Uh…nothing. Boo has been a very good boy. Good Boo.”

”This is the Evil Kiser’s Lair?”

”Yeah. Or at least his warehouse. Let’s look around a bit, and see what we can find out, shall we?”

An hour or so Zaerini had come to the conclusion that searching a room wasn’t all that easy when you were the size of a mouse. She’d found nothing of particular interest on the floor, and while there were a few tables and a number of shelves she couldn’t get onto them. Of Kiser himself there was no sign. 

”Oh come on!” She eventually said with an angry sigh. ”This is getting us nowhere closer to finding Kiser. I wish he’d turn up already and…”

CLANG!

Rini pressed both her hands against her mouth, but it was already too late. Even as the wish escaped her lips something slammed down over her head. Something solid, with sturdy metal bars. It was a cage, and she was trapped inside along with Minsc and Boo. That was bad enough, but the sight of a giant face bending down to scrutinize them was even worse. Human eyes shouldn’t be that big, it just wasn’t right, and being able to see every pore on the huge face of the man grinning at her was quite disgusting. Not on par with Irenicus, but bad all the same, especially when hot breath smelling strongly of garlic swept towards her like a fetid gust of wind. 

_I can’t believe I just said that. Stupid curse must be rotting my brains. And how did he sneak up on us without us hearing a thing?_

”Well, well, what have we here?” A voice boomed, so loud it nearly made her drop to her knees. ”Some very strange mice, these. A good thing I was just about to set out the traps.”

”Release us at once, or the mighty miniature fury of Minsc and Boo will be the last thing you see as it is unleased upon the jelly of your evil eyeballs!” Minsc threatened, shaking the bars. ”Boo, give the fiend your fiercest warning!”

Boo squeaked, and resumed scratching his ear with his paw. 

”Fascinating!” The giant said, watching them all closely. ”What are you, I wonder? Not homunculi, you are far too lifelike, and not mechanical creatures either. Where did you come from?”

_This probably wouldn’t be a good time to tell him we came here to give his cursed monkey paw back to him._

”We’re…pixies!” Rini said, fervently hoping that Minsc wouldn’t blurt out the truth. ”We didn’t intend to come here, we got packed into one of your crates by accident.”

The giant face wrinkled a little in thought. ”You don’t look like pixies.”

”That’s because we’re special Rashemani pixies! We don’t look like regular old pixies, everybody knows that. Now let us out. ”

Another hot waft of air and a calculating smile which looked anything other than reassuring. ”I see. Well, little pixies, my name is Kiser Jhaeri, and I trade with many strange countries, but not with Rasheman. Even so, it may be that you’re telling the truth, and were hidden in one of my crates. And since I have bought and paid for all the goods in all the crates, clearly I have also bought and paid for you. So no, I don’t think I will let you go. I have a feeling I could get a good price for you from the right kind of customer. Let’s just get you settled in before I return to my regular business, shall we?”

The cage was swept into the air, with both the tiny people and the hamster jostled around inside of it. Between trying to avoid being squashed against the bars by Boo and trying to get Minsc’s legs off her chest Rini could just make out a door opening behind what was apparently false cupboard. _So that’s where he came from before._ ”Welcome into my humble abode,” Kiser said, and then he carried them into the darkness. 

-*-

Edwin, meanwhile, had worked out at least some of his frustrations on the assembled giants. The wizard Errard had turned out to be a bear of a man, almost as wide as he was tall, with a broad chest and bulging arms that seemed more suited on a blacksmith than a mage. He had a bushy black beard, and equally bushy black eyebrows, and the staff he carried looked more like a small tree than anything else. The only thing which didn’t quite fit was his voice, which was oddly light and trilling. 

”Want to help, do you?” He’d said when Edwin had first introduced himself. ”Good, good. The shields are currently stable, so we’re taking the opportunity to fire back a bit. Aim for their clerics if you can, and don’t forget to keep score. It’s 1 point for a regular hit, 5 points if you get them in the face and 10 points if you make sure they can’t make any more little giants, if you see my meaning.” He giggled loudly, and paused to wipe some tears off his cheeks. ”Heh. Sorry, been a long day.”

”You are the senior wizard here?” Edwin inquired, wanting to make absolutely sure. Yes, he could sense that the man had a decent enough gift, but he seemed rather erratic.

”Since the day before yesterday,” Errard promptly replied. ”That’s when Old Barnaby died. Before him it was Adept Theodosia, and before her it was Archmage Doobeldum, and before him…”

”You seem to have been going through your supply of wizards rather quickly,” Edwin said, raising an eyebrow. ”Have the giants been breaching the shields that frequently?”

”Oh no.” Errard sighed, wearily rubbing at his temple with sausagelike fingers, as if he had a headache. ”And not that quickly, it’s been a couple of months. Barnaby ate something which didn’t agree with him, I think. Theodosia slipped on some soap in her bath, and poor old Doobeldum somehow managed to set fire to his own house. We only found his beltbuckle and even that was badly melted.”

”I see,” Edwin said. ”So how many are left to maintain the shield?”

”Only me,” Errard said with another sigh. ”I’m trying to teach some of the apprentices, but that takes time. Say, would you mind having a go at it? You’re obviously strong enough, and I’m afraid if I don’t get some sleep soon it’ll fail anyway, I’m bound to make a mistake eventually. It’s stable for now, but if you could just recharge it before you leave the walls I’d much appreciate it.”

”Very well,” Edwin agreed. It was a reasonable enough request after all, that shield was all that was currently keeping the giants from scaling the walls. ”As long as I first get the opportunity to rain destruction and devastation on as many giants as possible.”

”Have at it,” Errard said with a grin. ”And remember the score! It’s points per hour, and I’m currently at 60. Beat that, and you win the prize, a whole box of Lady Melissan’s cookies! I’ll show you how the shield works, and then I’ll have a nap.”

Edwin did enjoy himself with the giants for quite some time before he grew weary of it, and then busied himself with maintaining the shield before leaving. He did feel a little better than he had before, and not just from his successful score of 67. Having a problem to think about, another problem that is, that had helped as well. _A poisoning, an accidental fall, and an accidental housefire. That’s quite a few accidents in a short time, and all of them involving the wizards devoted to maintaining the shield. I can just imagine what Father would have to say about such a curious series of ’accidents’._ Edwin folded his hands in the long sleeves of his robe as he walked on, deep in thought. _Errard might not recognize the pattern, but there is definitely a traitor in Saradush._ He had attempted to warn Errard before he left, but the man had been half asleep and wasn’t really listening to a word he said. _We had better find this person, and soon. Errard must surely be the next target now, so perhaps some form of trap might be set?_ Edwin decided to think about this some more, and also to speak with his lover about it. While he undoubtedly could manage on his own, this was something he suspected she would want to be aware of. Also, now that he had worked the worst of his anger and fear out of his body for the moment, he suddenly felt himself missing her to the point where the longing came close to physical pain. Her voice, her smile, the warm scent of her skin…Edwin walked faster, eager to be out of the dusty streets of Saradush and in far more pleasant company than that of fire giants. The sight of a sign with a lit lantern attached, swingingly slowly in the wind, made him pause. A guard house, that would be just the thing. If he reported his suspiciouns to the lawful authorities, they’d hopefully handle it and he wouldn’t need to bother further. _It should only take me a few minutes extra._

An hour later Edwin found himself in dire need of more fire giants. He’d been kept waiting while a seemingly endless parade of thugs, beggars and tarts were dragged past him, presumably about to be taken to waiting cells. The bench he was sitting on was hard, and painted in a shade which could only be described as vomit green. The magical lamps hanging on the walls flickered, and made every single person illuminated by them look as if they suffered from consumption, and worst of all, there wasn’t a single thing to read. Finally, finally, he was directed into a small office where a weary man in slightly dented guard platemail looked up at him from across a towering stack of paperwork. He looked to be in his thirties or so, with a narrow face and sandcoloured hair, and he introduced himself as Guard Captain Mateo. 

”I thank you for your concern,” He said once Edwin had finished his tale. ”I have, however, already looked into the deaths in question, and could find no proof that they were other than accidental.”

”Then you clearly weren’t looking hard enough,” Edwin said with a dismissive glance at the man. ”Three deaths in a relatively short time, all of them wizards involved in the city’s magical defense? That is at least one too many to be a coincidence.” 

”All of them died at home, and alone,” Mateo persisted. ”As you have taken the trouble to involve yourself I will tell you this much. I did perform a thorough investigation, and there was no sign, magical or mundane, that anybody else had been present. I thought the same as you do, and tried to dig deeper, but found only one curious fact. Shortly before their deaths, they had all visited a particular business emporium, one belonging to a certain Kiser Jhaeri. He’s a rather unsavoury type, and he didn’t appreciate me looking into his affairs. Got quite unpleasant about it, and he told me I’d regret the offence.”

”Well then?”

”Unfortunately he also had an alibi for all three deaths, he was seen in public at the time. He couldn’t have done it.”

”He could have hired an assassin,” Edwin objected. ”That is what I would expect an affluent and prudent man to do. A skilled enough professional could easily make those deaths appear accidental.”

”I suppose so, and it’s not that I don’t suspect Kiser, quite the contrary, but with the siege going on I simply haven’t the time or means to do more right now. I will try to have one of my men keep an eye on Errard, but we’re swamped with work as it is, and…”

”And?”

Mateo made a pained grimace. ”And my best man, Ardic, has just gone missing while on patrol. We’re looking for him, but I fear the worst. In fact, I must go see his mother, Countess Santele and…”

There was a heavy knock on the door, more of an insistent pounding. Before Mateo had the time to answer, it was pushed open, and two muscular guards entered, followed by an older man with a grizzled beard and lined face. 

”Guard Commander Royden!” Mateo exclaimed as he shot to his feet. ”What is…”

”Captain Mateo,” The man said in a solemn voice. ”You are under arrest, for the abduction and murder of Sergeant Ardic. The Countess herself has testified against you. Do you have anything to say before you are taken to the cells?”

Mateo had gone quite pale, and Edwin could see his hands shaking as he supported himself on his desk. ”Only that I am innocent of this crime. It is my hope that the true culprit can soon be found, and brought to justice.” He turned to Edwin and looked him straight in the eyes as he mouthed two words. 

_Kiser Jhaeri._

-*- 

”This is a brothel?” Imoen said, looking up at the house before her. ”It’s not what I’d expected.”

”What did you expect?” Viconia asked, not taking her eyes off the house’s main gate. The three adventurers were stood in a sidealley on the other side of the street, having wanted to scout the premises before entering the suspected vampire nest. 

”More noise, I think,” Imoen said as she thought about it. ”More lights too. It doesn’t really look like a decadent nest of torrid passions and unbridled lusts, does it?”

Viconia observed the house some more. Imoen did have a point. It was a rather elegant stone building, with three stories and a small front garden surrounded by a tall iron railing. There were indeed no garish lights, no music leaking out, nor any other noises. There was light in some of the windows, and now and then she could glimpse a dark shape moving inside, but that was all. It looked more like a private residence belonging to a prosperous merchant than anything else. ”It could be one of the higher class establishments,” She said. ”Successful courtesans sometimes prefer to keep a lower profile for the sake of such customers who prefer discretion.”

”Speaking of customers,” Sarevok said, ”They don’t seem to have all that many.” A few men had been seen coming and going, but not nearly the number Viconia had expected. _Then again_ , she thought, _if they are the vampires we seek they need the blood more than the gold, and they wouldn’t want to attract too much attention._

”At least we’ve seen people leave alive,” Viconia said. She knew she would have been able to tell if any of the customers had been turned, and though she’d noticed them swaying on their feet that hadn’t been the case. ”Let’s pay them a business visit and learn more.” 

”You want us to pretend to be customers?” Imoen asked, catching on at once. ”I guess we could, but it’ll be risky. They’ll want us to split up, won’t they? Still, better than a full frontal assault.”

”I see no issue with a full frontal assault,” Sarevok protested. ”It will take them by surprise, and they will be struck down before they can endanger us.”

”We don’t know how many there are,” Imoen said. ”Suppose there’s twenty of them in there? Besides, we don’t know that we want to kill them. From what Rini said, it sounded like they might have information we need.”

”On your own head be it then,” Sarevok said with a small sneer. ”At least I will be able to watch you panic, and that should be entertainment of a sort.”

”I won’t!” Imoen objected. ”I’ve fought more vampires than you have, I bet. Bodhi wasn’t exactly a fluffy kitten.”

”Perhaps, and perhaps not. But I was thinking of another sort of experience than that, sister. Alone with an amorous vampire prostitute, what will you do?”

”I’ll handle it,” Imoen said, but she didn’t sound quite as sure of herself as before. 

”Unless they are outright hostile, it should pose no problem,” Viconia said. ”Remember, you will be the customer, and it will be your decision how much or how little you want to do.”

”Oh. Good.”

”Unless they use vampiric powers of suggestion, that is. But my spells will most likely protect us from that.”

”Most likely?!”

”For at least an hour,” Viconia said. ”I advice you both not to dally. And remember, we do not know the exact nature of the information we seek, so keep your eyes and ears wide open.”

”Yes, yes,” Sarevok said. ”Let’s get this over with quickly.” He strode off towards the house without looking to see if the two women followed. 

”I bet he says that to all the ladies,” Viconia said with a small smile. ”Shall we?”

Imoen gave her a quick grin in reply.

Sarevok gave the tall, dark blue door what he might have considered a light knock. Given his strength and armored fist, the door creaked and bent slightly under the blow. After a little while, Viconia’s keen ears could hear light footsteps inside, and then the door was opened so quickly that Sarevok had to take a step back in order not to get it in the face. 

”The mysteries of this portal are infinite,” Said the man standing inside. ”And greatest of them all is this, you pull rather than push.” He was human, of middle height and build, with brown hair and a smooth, tanned face. He was definitely mortal, and not a vampire. 

”We have business within,” Viconia said before Sarevok had time to cut in. ”If I am correctly informed, your mistresses would gladly see us and discuss the terms of a small arrangement.”

The man looked her steadily in the eye, seemingly not intimidated by the sight of a Drow. _Of course_ , Viconia thought, _he is used to his vampire mistresses. Even a Drow cannot compete with that._

”Yes,” The man simply said. ”Please, come inside and have a seat. I will inform them that you are here.” 

The three adventurers were led inside, and shown into a small parlour. There was a pleasant fire going in the fireplace, and the furniture was of high quality even if Viconia found the soft sofas and armchairs were a rather odd shade of purple which reminded her of a human spleen. Everything was clean and tidy, and somewhere in the distance she could hear faint, tinkling music. The paintings on the walls were the only hint towards the nature of the place, and even so they were romantic rather than blatant.

”Good evening,” A quiet voice spoke from the other end of the room. 

”Be welcome and enjoy your visit,” Said a second voice. 

Viconia’s head whipped around. She hadn’t heard them approach, not a single footstep, not a whisper of a sound. Yet there they were, two paleskinned women seated on the two chairs closest to the door. At first glance, they looked very different. One had dark hair, the other blonde. The blonde was a little taller and slimmer, with amber eyes and an amused smile. The brunette was curvier, with bright green eyes and a more solemn face than her companion. And yet, there was an odd sameness about them. Pale skin, yes, a little too pale, and the eyes were catching the light in ways human eyes shouldn’t. There was something about the way they moved as well, too precise. And of course, neither one was breathing. Viconia couldn’t quite see the fangs, not even when the blonde smiled at her, but she knew they were there. 

”We are interested in your establishment, and possibly in a business arrangement,” She began, cautious about what she said. ”Can you tell us about what you have to offer?”

”Of course,” The blonde said, still with that ready smile which didn’t quite bare her fangs. ”We offer pleasure, rare and particular pleasure, such as cannot be had elsewhere and will never be forgotten. We offer forgetfulness for those who so desire, and memory of what has been lost. We offer dreams and fantasies, and sweet rest.”

”What kind of rest?” Imoen asked, her eyes rather wide. 

”Whatever kind pleases you best,” The blonde said, her smile widening just a fraction. Flash of white teeth. ”We are proud to say we have never had an unhappy customer. Is that not so, sister?”

”It is so,” The dark one agreed. ”But we forget our manners, sister. We have not properly introduced ourselves to our guests. I am called Melora.”

”And I am Lilem,” The blonde said. Her unblinking gaze stayed on the three mortals. ”Might we know yours?”

”We are Felynath, Starling and Broig,” Viconia smoothly replied, indicating herself and her companions and ignoring the glare Sarevok shot at her when she spoke his alias. 

”Of course you are,” Melora said, steepling her fingers and watching Viconia across them. Her face was perfectly smooth, and her voice held no hint of emotion.

”My sister does not seem to believe you,” Lilem said, still smiling. ”She can be so suspicious at times, can’t you my dear?”

Melora did not reply, but now she was smiling as well. It wasn’t a particularly pleasant smile, Viconia thought.

”Just what are you implying?” Sarevok growled. 

”You know,” Lilem said, ”It’s so convenient for one of us to be the chattering one. It puts people at ease, it makes them relax…and it makes their surface thoughts rather easy to read, for one skilled in that art.” She winked. ”My sweet sister is skilled.”

”You’d better watch out!” Imoen said, her stance tensing as if she was preparing herself to spring on the two vampires. ”We know what you’re about, we know what you are, and we’re not the suckers you’re used to! We can defend ourselves!”

_So much for the cover_ , Viconia thought with an internal sigh. _But they had guessed anyway. They are more powerful than I had expected._ She was making preparations on her own, her fingers creeping closer to her holy symbol. She was reasonably sure she could turn one of the vampires in time. Both at the same time, now that might be tricky. 

”I suppose you can,” Lilem said, still calmly seated. ”Sister?”

”The pink one fought our kindred before,” Melora said, tilting her head to one side. ”Very uncouth ones.” She made a grimace. ”Graveyard dwellers, wallowing in tubs of blood. Their ’queen’ was insane, it would seem. Totally out of control.”

”There is no need for such unpleasantness between us,” Lilem said with another charming smile. ”Their way is not our way.” She shrugged. ”Why go on a rampage when we can take what we require a little at a time? We satisfy our need, and we satisfy their need for pleasure at the same time.” She licked her lips briefly, and now Viconia could just glimpse the fangs. ”There is no pleasure such as our kisses. Our customers go away happy, and yes, they do go away. Many return, and eagerly. It is better business this way.”

”You’re telling us you don’t kill people?” Imoen said. 

”Accidents do happen,” Lilem said. ”We do insist on a clean bill of health, but occasionally they might have health issues they keep from us.”

”People will say anything to get what they want,” Melora said. 

”What about the mind reading trick?” Sarevok asked, frowning. 

”I do give them fair warning. Nobody with a heart condition, wasting diseases or recent wounds. If they choose to ignore that, are we to blame?”

”Never mind all that,” Viconia said. ”That is not why we’re here, and I don’t think your telepathy is strong enough to tell you everything.”

”Not everything, no,” Melora freely admitted. ”But you clearly want something from us. If not a fight, or our kisses, then perhaps you might just tell us what it is, and then we’ll see if we can come to an agreement.”

”Very well,” Viconia said. She still wasn’t sure she trusted these two, but it seemed best to get down to business at this point. ”We need access to Gromnir Il Khan. We’ve been lead to believe you might assist us with that.”

”Gromnir, is it?” Lilem said, her eyes narrowing a little. ”Why yes, we might make arrangements for that. Of course, you would need to give us something in return.”

”We’re not letting you drink our blood!” Imoen cut in. ”Or do any other bad things to us either.”

”Oh, but bad things can be so deliciously pleasant,” The vampire said in a low hiss. ”You might be surprised.”

”Nothing so dramatic,” Melora said, idly twirling a lock of hair around her finger. ”A small sample of blood from each one of you, including your companions, that is all we require. Not enough to do you any harm.”

”Why?” Sarevok said, his hand going to the hilt of his sword. ”For the purpose of some sinister spell intent on controlling us?”

”No,” Melora said. ”We’re collectors, you see.” She beamed, fangs glittering. ”My own collection is quite fine, with some very rare samples including a blue halfdragon and a halfling berserker. Why, I even came in second at VampCon last year, and I could have won if _somebody_ hadn’t managed to snag a case of Sparkling Plasma and bribed the judges…”

”Tsk tsk,” Lilem said, looking smug. ”Don’t be a sore loser, sister dear.”

”At least I won the costume contest,” Melora mused. ”I was a divinely perfect vampire hunter, and your dryad looked like you’d simply rolled in a haystack.”

”Did not!”

”Did too!”

The vampire sisters glared at each other for a moment, fangs bared and snarled.

”At any rate,” Melora finally said, ”This is the deal we’re proposing. You may accept it or not.” 

The three adventurers looked at each other. ”I don’t know that Rini will like it,” Imoen said. ”Or Edwin.”

”Perhaps not,” Viconia agreed. ”But it is a possible way forward. We can at least deliver the proposal.” _And I will make certain we come well prepared, in case of treachery._

”I fear no vampires,” Sarevok stated. ”I say we accept, and if they betray us we make them pay sorely for it.” There was an eager, almost feverish glance in his eyes as he looked upon the two vampires. Not simple lust, Viconia thought, attractive though they both were. No, there was something else. _What is he up to?_

”We will deliver your proposal to our leader,” Viconia said. ”Will we be able to find you here tomorrow evening?”

”Most likely,” Melora said, stretching lazily like a cat.

”And if not,” Lilem added, ”We will find you.”

_Yes. That is very, very reassuring._


	8. A Curse Reversed

**Throne of Cards 8 – A Curse Reversed**

_The reason why three wishes is the traditional magical number is that usually the wisher doesn’t make it for long enough to make a fourth._

_Excerpt from ’Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

”Tell me again why I should set you free?” Kiser Jhaeri said as a small smile creased his lips. 

”Because it’s wrong to keep sentient beings trapped in a cage, or sell them to some maniac collector of novelties?” Zaerini offered, her tiny hands clutching the bars of the cage. She didn’t think it would convince her captor, but it couldn’t hurt to try. 

”Ha! Good one!” Kiser said, his entire belly jumping up and down as he laughed. ”Oh, you slay me, you really do. I’ll ask at least 1000 gold pieces for you, my little pet.” He raised the glass of red wine he was holding to his lips and took a slow drink, winking at her as he did so. ”No, make that 2000.”

”There can be no price set on Heroes such as Minsc and Boo and Little Rini!” Minsc protested. ”Boo tells me that we shall roam free across the open plains of Rasheman long after this greasy merchant has been delivered to his grave by the swift application of Justice’s mighty boot to his swelling backside.”

For a long, horrible moment, Rini thought that Kiser might decide to simply squish the two of them. His giant face flushed an angry red, but then he snorted and chuckled again. 

”Make that 3000,” He stated. ”I think some gladiator games will cool the temper of this mighty miniature warrior. Perhaps a battle against a feral cat would slow him down some, hm?” There was a faint, jingling sound from off in the distance, and Kiser frowned and then shrugged. ”Ah, potential customers. It seems I must leave you for now, my new little treasures.” He grinned. ”Don’t go anywhere, now!”

_Not very likely_ , Zaerini thought as she slumped down on the floor. _Gods, I wish I’d never laid eyes on that damned monkey paw._ She instantly pressed her hand against her mouth, to make sure she hadn’t said it out loud and given the cursed artifact another chance to cause her trouble. But no, nothing seemed to have happened this time, so she must have managed to keep her mouth shut. _Phew. I’m not sure how the monkey paw could make this situation worse, but I’m sure it’d find a way._

Not that it wasn’t bad enough as it was. She and Minsc were currently mouse-sized, and trapped along with Boo in a cage which smelled as if rodents had lived in it before. There was some straw on the floor, a bowl of water, and bars which were just a bit too tightly spaced for her to squeeze between them. She couldn’t budge them either, and nor could Minsc. The cage was sitting in the middle of a table in what appeared to be an inner storeroom of Kiser’s shop. There were crates along the walls, and shelves stocked with precious glassware, bolts of cloth and what she thought was containers of various spices. 

”Boo says that Little Rini mustn’t worry,” Minsc said. He gave her shoulder a gentle pat. ”Not even the dastardly traps and cages of the Most Evil Wizard could contain us for long, and we are even greater heroes now than we were then.”

”We’re actually much smaller heroes now than we were then,” Rini said with a sigh. Just thinking about Irenicus was enough to make her shudder. _I can’t go through something like that again. I think I might lose my mind._ ”I don’t see how anything we’ve learnt since then is going to help us get past these bars, we’d need to be much stronger and…” The half-elf fell silent, staring at the bars in thought. ”Minsc,” She said. ”I’ve got an idea.”

”Yes, Little Rini?”

”Well…I just had a thought.” A quick grin flashed across the bard’s face. ”I think it’s time to find out just how strong I can get at this size.” 

Before, the Slayer had mostly been something that just happened to her, the avatar breaking the surface of her mind in moments of extreme stress or anger. She knew she could summon it on purpose though, she’d done that in the Underdark in order to break through a door too powerful for mortal strength. _And I promised the others I’d avoid using it as much as possible. This is an emergency though. And I’m sure I can control it better this time._ Yes, the Bhaalpower was more under her control these days. If she could summon a whole pocket plane of her own, why not master the Slayer as well? _Well, here goes nothing._

She made sure to focus on the cage, and only the cage, ignoring Minsc and Boo. The last thing she wanted was to hurt them, but as long as they stayed behind her while she transformed it should be fine. This wasn’t like the first time when she’d been lost and confused, this time she knew what she was doing – more or less. She opened her mind, feeling tendrils of red, spiky anger and twisty black hatred snaking through it. _Mine. They won’t rule me. Nobody and nothing will rule me._ The bars of the cage, shutting her in, taunting her. _I WILL be free!_ Her skin was prickling as fur grew, her nails elongated into sharp claws, the power was rushing through her, filling her with enormous strength and power. As she threw herself at the cage her mouth opened in a mighty roar, which at her current size came out more as the growl of a very angry kitten.

The bars, they were bending, twisting, and finally giving way. The Slayer stumbled out of the cage with a furious ’mrowwww’, searching for something to kill. Somebody had shut her in a cage, and that somebody should pay for it! Her claws scraped the wooden surface of the table as she hunched down, sniffing the air. The stench of her captor was thick in the air, but there was another, hidden scent of another human, mixed with metal and rock. 

”Ha ha!” Minsc cried out as he stepped out of the cage, pausing only to help pull Boo’s rather plump rear end through the hole. ”The fury of the berserker warms the blood, does it not? It makes the limbs strong and fast, and makes the heart pound, and the warrior conquer. But now the Evil Cage has fallen, and it is time for heroes to move on.”

”Rrrr?” The Slayer said, momentarily confused by the words flowing from the human in front of her. 

”Yes, Minsc knows,” Minsc said, nodding sagely. ”Many times has the calming influence of Boo been all that brought me back from the brink. Here, Little Rini must let us help.” 

The Slayer found herself staring into the round, black eyes of the hamster, even as Minsc patted her gently on the head, then moving on to scritch her ears. Part of her wanted to turn around and snap at the hands touching her, but another part was purring contentedly. And those black eyes were…distracting. Deep, so deep, and there was a light there, she could almost see it, and shapes moving…

”Huh?” Zaerini said, reaching up to rub at her aching head. She was sitting on the table, and Boo was staring down at her – why was that worrying her all of a sudden? The hamster’s nose twitched and he looked calmly back at her, entirely his normal self. But she’d seen…something. Hadn’t she? She couldn’t remember what it was. _Ok, maybe I can’t control the Slayer as well as I’d hoped. If it messes with my head like this that’s another good reason to avoid it._

”Ah, Little Rini is back!” Minsc beamed, pulling her to her feet in a fierce hug. ”All better now?”

”Oh, yes, thanks Minsc,” She said, smiling in return. ”And thanks for helping me get back to normal. It really did help.” She turned around and felt the warm glow of contentment in her belly as she watched the twisted bars. _Miniature Mighty Slayer, that’s me._ ”Well, we’re out of the cage. We still need to get out of this room though.”

”And take vengeance on the Evil Kiser!”

”Um, sure. Somehow.” Rini pulled the monkey paw out of her pocket and gave it a dark look. ”This is all his fault too. This thing came from him to start with. I wi…I mean, we should try to get back at him. A taste of his own medicine, know what I mean?”

Minsc frowned. ”We make the Evil Kiser drink monkey medicine?”

”No Minsc, I mean we should find a way to give it back to him and…” Rini broke off, her eyes widening as the thought struck her in a lightning flash of inspiration. ”Yes!” She crowed with delight. ”You’ve got it Minsc! That’s exactly what we should do!” 

-*-

Kiser Jhaeri was a man in a very good mood as he hurried towards the front of his shop. The two pixies, or homunculi, or…well whatever they were they would surely fetch an excellent price once he could find a prospective buyer. Admittedly, that would be a little difficult in Saradush right now, but it wasn’t as if he was planning to stay here for much longer. Unlike the other citizens, Kiser had a choice, and he intended to make good use of it before the entire city was turned to rubble by the invading fire giants. Only good business, nothing personal. Anybody would have done the same thing. The giants and their immortal leader were clearly more powerful than the poor saps trying to defend the walls, so who would want to beat on a losing team? Not Kiser Jhaeri. And the best way to ensure he was on the winning team had been to offer his helpful services. A few wellplaced and intelligently cursed items, and the defenders had crumbled one by one, victims of convenient ’accidents’. Yaga Shura had appreciated that, or so his agent had told Kiser. The wall would come down soon enough, as would the magical defenses, and by then Kiser would be well away and well rewarded. The little seeds of chaos he’d sown within the city guards were just the icing on the cake. _Always bet on the winning team._ He smiled when he saw the customer who had entered his shop. A wizard, and a wealthy one at that, judging by his intricately decorated magerobes and the glittering staff slung across his shoulder. And a Red Wizard of Thay, somebody bound to be interested in Kiser’s rare items.

”Kiser Jhaeri?” The man said in haughty tones which Kiser didn’t particularly appreciate. He kept smiling though, for the sake of good business.

”I am, good sir,” He said, bowing. ”And how may I be of service to you?”

”I understand you are a merchant of some small renown in this city,” The man said, looking down his nose at Kiser. ”A purveyor of curios and magical trifles.”

”Oh, surely not, good sir!” Kiser protested. ”I assure you, my wares are all of the highest quality, and I dare say there are secrets in my storeroom which would amaze and intrigue you.”

”Not mere trinkets then?” The wizard asked, his dark eyes fixed on Kiser’s face. ”Not laughable attempts at curses and jinxes which in Thay would serve only as party favours for children?”

”Why y…no, no good sir. Not at all.” Kiser made himself smile again, although he could feel it cracking a little at the edges. _I’ll make you shut up and goggle in amazement, you son of a dog and a harpy!_ ”Why, in my storeroom I have at this very minute a pair of very rare Rashemani pixies, highly magical and much sought after! Whether for pets of for spell components, sir is bound to be satisfied!”

”Rashemani pixies?” The Red Wizard said, his eyebrows rising nearly to his hairline. ”Very well. You may fetch me these pixies, and we shall see how much they are worth. (The scoundrel will certainly try to sell me animated clayfigures, as if I hadn’t learnt that spell before I was ten. I’m sure he doesn’t even know how to make them do backflips.)”

Kiser could feel his teeth clenching tightly together, and bowed deeply so that the potential customer wouldn’t be able to see the state of his smile. He backed into the storeroom, absently reached for the wineglass on the table and emptied it to calm his nerves. Then he turned towards the cage, and felt his legs sagging a little. Empty! How could this be? He was sure it had been tightly locked, and sturdy enough. ”No…” He muttered. ”Where are you?” There was no reply, of course. But the creatures were small, and they couldn’t have got out of the room. He bent down on hands and knees and tried to peek under the furniture. 

”Kneeling before your betters, I see? How appropriate.” The maddening wizard had strolled into Kiser’s storeroom as if he owned the place, and there was an infinitely annoying little smirk on his face. ”And where are these amazing pixies of yours, hm?”

”This is not a customer area,” Kiser angrily retorted as he got to his feet. His face felt quite hot now, he was getting a splitting headache and his stomach was tight and queasy. ”I must insist that sir waits in the shop.” 

”But perhaps there are other magical artifacts than pixies present on the premises,” The Red Wizard mused, stroking his beard. ”You are, of course, aware that the Red Wizards of Thay are the finest purveyors of magical items in all the world.” The smirk had turned downright unpleasant now, cold and ominous. ”And my sources tell me that some of the trinkets you peddle have in fact been stolen from us. Shall I explain to you what Red Wizards do to people who dare to steal from them?”

”N-no,” Kiser protested. ”I assure you, that is lies and slander!” Part of him wanted to take a flying leap and try to throttle the obnoxious fellow, but the man was a Red Wizard after all. ”None of my goods are stolen,” He insisted. _At least not from any Red Wizards, that I’m aware of._ ”You may see for yourself. Your crafters always place a magical signature on their wares, is it not so?”

”Yes indeed,” The Red Wizard nodded. ”So, a full inspection of the premises would seem to be in order. It will of course include the hidden storerooms and passages.”

”Hidden storerooms?” Kiser blankly said. _I can’t let him see those! If he does, he’ll see the prisoner. He might not care, but if he should take an interest it could be disastrous._

”Obviously. The measurements of the house itself do not fit with the size of the rooms. Also, it is a wellknown practise, so let’s not go into the tedium of your miserable attempts at dissembling, shall we?” The wizard studied his carefully manicured nails for a moment, and a few small sparks leapt off them. ”That would undoubtedly bore me, and I’m sure we wouldn’t wish that?” 

”Wouldn’t wish…” Kiser growled. He was past all caution now, desperation and frustration fighting for supremacy within him. ”I wish I’d never have to lay eyes on or listen to you again, you….you plague of an impertinent wizard! Argh! You’re unbearably annoying! I wish for misfortune and indignity to fall upon you and…and…” He clutched at his forehead, closing his eyes. ”And I wish to be rid of the migraine you’ve given me!”

The headache was getting even worse, his head was filling with white noise and his fingers were shaking and twitching as he pressed them to his forehead, trying to regain control. His mouth widened in a surprised ’Oh’ when his fingers felt bones cracking, sliding, and finally….

There was a sound as of a rock hitting a large melon, and then there was utter silence for perhaps half a minute. Edwin slowly pulled an embroidered handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his face and hair, taking great care to get rid of everything even remotely wet or chunky. ”Well,” He finally said to himself, once he was certain he wouldn’t get anything in his mouth. He looked down at the corpse on the floor. Below the neck, Kiser was intact. Above the neck, the less was said the better. ”That was unusal.” _I can’t say I recall that happening before. Not from just talking . I know Father once said I was the only person he knew who was capable of driving a perfect stranger to either suicide or homicide within five minutes, but spontaneous explosion?_ He looked down at himself. ”Oh, curses! These robes were newly washed too, how will I ever get the stains out?!”

”Eddie!” The voice began as a tiny squeak, befitting a mouse, but before the word was finished it was normal, familiar, and infinitely welcome. There was a ripping, creaking sound, and a coat hanging on a hook on the wall seemed to follow Khiser’s example and disintegrated into a few sorry shreds as a half-elf, a barbarian and a hamster burst out of it. 

”Hellkitten?!” Edwin gasped, and barely had time to catch his lover as she hurled herself into his arms. ”Where did you…I mean…careful, you wouldn’t want to get this on your clothes.”

”Don’t care,” Zaerini decisively said and then she planted a warm kiss right on his lips. ”Your face is clean at least. I’m so glad to see you, you’ve no idea what we’ve been through!”

”Minsc and Boo and Little Rini were very tiny,” The annoying ranger offered, smiling foolishly as he petted his rodent. ”Well, not Boo, he was still Boo-sized, which is a very fitting size for a hamster. It was all because of the Evil Kiser and his monkey paw, but the day is saved, and hooray for the Not So Evil Wizard for distracting the fiend! Then we hid in his pockets and now we are all better with the spell broken!”

”Monkey paw?” Edwin asked, his brain only partially focused on the conversation as the rest of him was enjoying the very close company of his most favourite Bhaalspawn. ”Spell? Distracting?”

”Long story,” Zaerini said. ”There was this monkey paw with a curse on, and I may have been a teeny bit careless and…wow I’m sure it’s really late, we’d better get going…”

”Curse?! You know better than to tangle with cursed items, I know you do!”

”Accident.” She smiled up at him, shaking her red hair out of her eyes. ”And all’s well that ends well. See, when you rang the doorbell I could sneak the monkey paw into his wine, so when he drank that it became his property again. I figured we’d hide and sooner or later he’d wish for something and curse himself. I just didn’t know it’d be that messy. But how did you know how to come rescue us here?”

”I…ah…I didn’t. I was investigating the premises because the man was suspected of being a traitor to the city, and as long as we are forced to remain within this hideous blot on the landscape I prefer it not to be sacked and razed, thank you.” He reached up to curl his fingers in her hair, and then traced the contour of her ear with his finger. ”Now I am infinitely glad I decided to do so, of course.”

”Mmm, so am I.”

”So are Minsc and Boo! Grouphugs for everybody!”

”No! Put us down this instant, you horrible, lumbering ape! And take that hamster out of my ear!”

”Hello? Is anybody out there? Hello? Can you hear me? I am Sergeant Ardic, can you let me out please?”

The last voice was an unfamiliar one, and it came from behind the wall. It made all three adventurers startle briefly, but then Edwin snapped his fingers and nodded. 

”Ah yes, of course. That would be the murdered man.”

Zaerini gave him a long look. ”He sounds awfully lively for a murdered man.”

”Well of course he isn’t actually murdered,” Edwin said a little irritably. ”Kiser Jhaeri must have simply abducted him in order to pin the blame on guard captain investigating his involvement in the other deaths. (I wonder why he didn’t actually murder him if he went to all that trouble? Very illogical.)”

Zaerini looked at him for a moment longer, and then she gave him a grin and patted his cheek. ”Well, you’d better go let him out then. I’m sure he’ll want to thank the hero of the hour. Promise not to let him kiss you though. That’s just for me.”

_Hero…oh no. Not this again! Haven’t I been embarrassed enough?_ And Edwin sighed as he understood that Kiser Jhaeri had in fact got all his wishes granted. 


	9. Tinfoil Orc

**Throne of Cards 9 - Tinfoil Orc**

_It’s not paranoia if you really end up killed and looted._

_Excerpt from ’Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

”Well, big man, let’s see what you have to offer us.”

Sarevok gave the blonde vampire in front of him a level stare. ”In due time,” He said, before turning to his companions. ”I would prefer to do this in private.”

”Oh, that’s a great idea, that is!” His sister said, throwing up her hands in the air. ”Any more winners like that one? Planning to go roll yourself in honey and sit naked in the woods with a sign around your next which reads ’Bear Buffet’? Nuh-uh. We’re staying right here.”

”No,” Sarevok flatly stated. ”I require privacy.” _Foolish child, why must she interfere? Why does she even care? She should not!_

”Ah, well, if he is willing to risk his neck for the pleasures of the flesh, then that is surely his business,” Viconia said, echoing Sarevok’s thoughts. ”By all means let him sate his lusts, if they slaughter him I can bring him back afterwards. After a fashion, at least.”

”After a fashion?”

”As a zombie.” Viconia nodded to herself. ”Yes, I can see it now. He’d be just as strong, but blissfully silent and obedient. A win-win situation, isn’t it?”

”Do I look like Xzar to you? No zombies in this party, thanks!”

The two vampires gave each other a brief look. ”Truly,” the blonde one named Lilem said, ”You have nothing to fear. Have we not taken only a small and perfectly safe sample from all the rest of you?”

”Sure,” Imoen pointed out. ”With all the rest of us here and ready to fight back if you try anything fishy. If we leave him alone, you might jump him.”

”Even so,” Sarevok said, ”I insist. I will not change my mind.” He locked eyes with his sister. ”Upon my return to the world of the living, you might have bound me with an oath requiring me to bow to your will. You chose not to. Perhaps you regret that now.” 

Zaerini’s golden eyes started unblinking into his own, meeting his gaze steadily. After a moment she frowned, then sighed. ”No,” She said. ”Fine. Have it your way. We’ll be right outside the door.” She coughed briefly, her cheeks turning slightly pink. ”Not to say we’ll be listening or anything. Just, you know, yell if you’re in trouble.” She hurried out the door, the others trailing after her. Once they were all gone, Sarevok silently held his arm out for the two vampire sisters.

”So that’s it,” The dark one, Melora, said, as the blonde deftly pierced skin and vein and drained a small sample of blood into a glass vial. 

”You have seen what you require, sister?”

”Yes.” Melora looked at Sarevok, her green eyes cool and remote. ”A memory. That is what you desire, is it not?”

”You know what I want. Can you give it to me?”

”You know I cannot. I can give you a substitute. If you want it, and if you will pay the price, then take my hand.” The vampire held her hand out, and Sarevok took it without hesitation, grasping cold white fingers which he knew were deceptively strong. The cold didn’t last long though. Soon her kisses felt warm against his skin, so very warm, and her face blurred, changing before his straining eyes to another, so familiar and so dear. Long black hair, warm dark eyes, and her smile…her smile…

”Tamoko.” Sarevok breathed. His head knew it wasn’t truly her. His heart did not care. 

-*-

”Well, here goes nothing,” Zaerini said as she knocked on the door of Gromnir’s stronghold. ”Feels kind of weird, doesn’t it?”

”I know,” Imoen agreed. ”I had this idea there’d be lots of traps, and evil minions to fight in droves. And tunnels. Or crawling through sewers.”

”I am perfectly content to bypass the sewers this time around,” Edwin said, flicking an imaginary speck of dust off the sleeve of his robe. ”I only just got these back from laundry after that incident with the histrionic merchant.”

”Keep your conversation to a minimum, mage, and perhaps there will be no further exploding craniums,” Viconia said with a small smirk. 

”Well, Kiser deserved it,” Rini said, squeezing her lover’s arm until he smiled back at her. ”You can explode heads of deserving people any time, Eddie. Just try not to do it to Gromnir, ok? We kind of need to get on his good side so Melissan will lower the teleport shields around the city and let us scram.” _As long as Melissan keeps her word_ , she thought to herself, but she didn’t say it out loud. Lowering morale would do no good. The vampire sisters had explained that while Gromnir was indeed suspicious of all outsiders, refusing to see anybody, they had an ’ongoing business arrangement’ with him. 

”He requires us to analyze his blood at regular intervals,” Melora had explained. ”He’s convinced that evil gnomes are attempting to mindcontrol him with drugs placed in his food and drink. It is a good thing that none of you are gnomes.”

”Hold on,” Lilem had said with a brief frown. ”I thought it was secret messages written in the clouds attempting to control him?”

”No, no. That was a month ago. At any rate,” The dark vampire said, ”We perform this service for him for a very moderate fee, and in return he encourages his hirelings to visit our little establishment. We have written you a letter of introduction, providing a plausible excuse or three, and he has agreed to see you for a brief interview. You will have your opportunity to talk him into supporting you."

_Let’s hope it works_ , Rini thought. _Otherwise we might have to get a message to Jan and ask him about those gnomish mindcontrol drugs._

The tall doubledoors swung open, and a skinny man wearing what at first appeared to be a glittering suit of armour looked down his nose at the adventurers. Rini blinked, and realised that in fact it wasn’t armour at all. It was metal, but it was sheets of metal so thin that they might as well be sheets of paper, wound around his entire body. ”Yes?” He said in a voice of polite disdain. 

”Uh…we’re here to see Gromnir Il-Khan,” Rini managed. ”We’ve got an appointment.” 

”Ah yes,” The man said. He sniffed briefly. ”The soothsayer. Master Il-Khan is expecting you. I am Dworkin. Do wipe your feet, please.”

Rini looked down to see a large doormat, bright green and coated with tiny metal spikes. They didn’t look sharp enough to penetrate her boots, but they were definitely unusual. 

”What’s that?” Imoen asked. ”Some new kind of caltrops?”

”No,” Dworkin said with another brief sniff. ”They are covered with ’gnome-repellant’. The master ordered them specifically. Follow me.”

As the group followed the dour servant deeper into the building, Rini noticed not only a multitude of armed guards posted at regular intervals throughout the corridors, but also certain oddities about the interior decorating. All the windows had been covered by the same thin metal sheets which Dworkin were wearing, and the guards all had them wound around their helmets. Also, there was the graffiti along the walls. Once upon a time they had been a pristine white, but now they were covered with reddish scribblings, hopefully made with paint. ’The Truth Is Out There’, she read, closely followed by ’They Can’t Get You If You Look’, ’The Island Travels In Time’, ’It Was All A Dream’ and ’Han Shot First’. 

”Utter incomprehensible gibberish,” Edwin muttered. ”My hopes for a fruitful and mutually beneficent meeting dwindle by the second and my patience is short. (A few Explosive Runes might make a suitable addition to all this nonsense.)”

”Sssh,” Rini whispered. ”Gromnir’s good side, get on. Remember?”

”Your armor is strange, friend Dworkin!” Minsc boomed. ”It is most shiny and flexible, but is it sturdy enough to break the charge of a rampaging troll or an enraged giant? Boo is most sceptical, just look at his disapproving frown.”

”It isn’t armor,” Dworkin said with a sigh. ”Master Il-Khan ordered it specifically and requires all his servants and bodyguards to wear it.”

”Let me guess,” Viconia said. ”To protect against the evil gnomes, yes?”

”No. To provide a foil for the telepathic rays of the deep space lizards who secretly strive to rule the world.”

Viconia blinked. ”Very well,” She said. ”Will he require us to wear it as well?”

”I shouldn’t think so.”

”Good. I hate to think what that would do to my hair.”

At last the group was led into a large and windowless room, with more guards posted outside a pair of heavy doubledoors. Inside, the room was utterly bare, apart from a dais at one end, with a rather plain stone throne on it. There was a half-orc sitting on the throne, a tall and muscular man with a jutting jaw and light green skin. He was wearing an ornate suit of armour, covered with jutting spikes and depictions of screaming faces. Out of the corner of her eye, Zaerini noticed Sarevok giving it an approving nod. There were stripes of the thin sheets of metal wound carefully around the man’s head, as well as dangling in stripes off the spikes on the armour. 

”Who comes?” He barked. ”Who comes before Gromnir Il-Khan? Are you gnomes? Are you? WELL?”

”This is the soothsayer, mylord,” Dworkin said in a very polite voice which somehow managed to express extreme suffering. ”You remember, you were prepared for this meeting, were you not?”

”Was I? Maybe…yes, yes. But it’s too soon! TOO SOON! I haven’t had time to put the mirrors up.”

”Er, that’s all right, really,” Rini said. ”We don’t need any mirrors.”

”And we’re not gnomes,” Imoen added. ”You can see we’re all too tall to be gnomes, can’t you? What’s so bad about gnomes anyway?”

”Aha!” Gromnir said. ”You don’t know, do you? But I do! I know ALL the secrets, the hidden secrets of our world and others. He has shown me, oh yes, he has shown me everything.”

”That’s nice,” Rini said in what she hoped was a placating voice. _Great. So much for hoping he’d be stable and reasonable. Maybe he can still be convinced though?_

”They’re monsters! Monsters I tell you, all the gnomes are monsters! Not people, monsters! And if they’re monsters, does it not follow that they are agents of all our destruction, bent on slaying us all? Where did I put the mirrors? Where?”

”Ah yes,” Edwin said, nodding. ”It all makes sense when you think of it that way, doesn’t it? (The stories…the turnips…all designed to drive a sane individual to the brink of madness.)”

”Well, we’re not gnomes,” Viconia said. ”And we don’t need any mirrors either.”

”You may not! But I do!” Gromnir hunched down on his throne, nervously gnawing on his already chipped and cracked nails. ”How else can I tell if I’m here or not?”

”Ah, my poor friend,” Minsc said, patting the half-orc on the back. ”A long night of revelry and feasting often makes one feel thus. Boo recommends a chilled mixture of one raw egg, a drop of honey, and fresh peppers.”

”No! You don’t understand! He told me, don’t you see? He told me that half-orcs don’t actually exist. So if I’m here, I must be imagining it. But if I’m in the mirror, maybe I’m real after all. Don’t you see? Can you hear me?”

”Yesss…” Rini said, trying to make sense of this. ”And see you too. So you must be real. Maybe you shouldn’t be listening to ’him’ so much. Maybe he’s just trying to trick you.”

”No,” Gromnir said, vehemently shaking his head. ”I know he tricks, I know he lies. But he tells the truth as well.” He leaned forward, eyes gleaming. ”He told me you’d come. He told me.”

”Um…that’s nice. Did he tell you anything else about me?”

”That you’d tell my future. He promised you’d show me my future! And I need to know, I need to know. If I’ve got a future, I must be real. Unless they’re tricking us both.”

”They?”

”You know. Them. The Faceless Ones. The ones on whose puppetstrings we all dance.” Gromnir nodded again, little flicks of spittle spraying from his mouth. ”They rule the world, you know. Them and their little games. They’ve got it all set up. They’ve got it all written down, numbers, numbers and statistics. They know how we work. They make us do things. Oh gods, I can hear the dice rolling in my head!” He gave a brief howl, clutching his head with his hands and then pounded the throne with his fists. ”Tell me! I must know! I MUST!”

”Was _I_ that far gone?” Sarevok whispered, sounding rather shocked. 

”Getting there,” Rini whispered back. ”But you didn’t seem to have the gnome obsession though.”

”That’s a small relief. Well, little sister, you’d best do as he asks, or we won’t get further. Not that I think he’s fit to be a champion for this miserable city anyway.”

”Right,” Rini said, stepping forward. ”Look, Gromnir,” She said. ”I can’t promise this’ll work, but I’ll give it a try, ok? And if I do, will you at least promise to listen to what I’ve come to ask you for?”

”Yes, yes! Gromnir hears, Gromnir will listen!”

”Talking in third person now,” Imoen said out of the corner of her mouth while smiling stiffly. ”Better hurry up sis, not looking good.”

The bard sighed, and stood next to the miserable half-orc. She took out her special deck of cards, stroking a finger lightly across it. ”Gromnir Il-Khan,” She said. ”Show me what’s in his future, please.” She drew a card at random, then turned it over. It was black, black as deepest night, apart from one lone figure. It was a grinning skeleton, carrying a scythe across its back and trampling corpses under its feet. Stark white bones formed letters across the top, spelling out ’Death’. 

”AGH!” Gromnir shouted. ”Death! Gromnir sees, Gromnir knows! It’s death, death, death!”

”Er, probably just a minor flu or something,” Rini said, trying to sound confident. ”Or a bad dream. I get lots of those. And anyway, everybody dies, sooner or later. Could be ages yet.Tell you what, I’ll try again.” She glared at the cards. ”Gromnir Il-Khan. Immediate future.” She turned over a second card, then stared back into hollow eyesockets. ”Er…best out of three. You look perfectly healthy to me, I’m sure we’re still good. Yep, still good. Sure of it. You’re still breathing, aren’t you?”

”NO!” Gromnir bellowed. ”It’s Death I tell you, Death! Gromnir is doomed!” He suddenly sat bolt upright, an eerie calm descending on him and a strange, pale light filling his eyes. ”Who sent you? Who? Was it the gnomes?”

”No!” Rini protested. ”No gnomes, I promise. Look, we mean no harm. Melissan just wanted us to come talk to you, to convince you to help defend the city.” 

”Melissan…” Gromnir said, chuckling quietly. ”Yes. Pretty Melissan. Melissan sees. Melissan knows.”

”Right. So if you’d just listen….”

”Gromnir knows what you are now.” The half-orc stood, slowly lifting a huge axe from its restingplace at the side of the throne. Magical runes were etched into the sharp blade, and it crackled and sparked as it moved. Gromnir grinned, and his muscles seemed to expand, swelling until they were fairly bursting out of his armour. ”Not a gnome, no. Not one of the space lizards, not the dire owls who aren’t what they seem. Not even one of the Faceless Ones. No. He has told Gromnir. Gromnir hears his voice, all the time now. Gromnir sees you truly now…sister.”

_Ooops. So much for diplomacy. Ok, mirror image first, stoneskin, then dodge and roll, and then…_

”GROMNIR WILL SLAY YOU! GROMNIR WILL SLAY ALL BHAALSPAWN! THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE! GROMNIR WILL…”

There was a thick beam of bright red light, followed by a wet, crackling noise, and then the sound of something spattering across the floor followed by a heavy body hitting the floor. Rini stared at the large corpse, and especially at the bloody mess wrapped in thin metal foil. It wasn’t really recognizable as a head, not anymore. Anything other than the metal foil seemed to have been vaporised into tiny, tiny bits. As she watched, the rest of the body gradually turned into sparkling dust, blown away by a brief and sudden gust of wind. 

”Hm,” Edwin said with a smug smile. ”It would seem his protective foil, efficient as it might be against gnomish mindcontrol, is no match for a localized Disintegrate. Let’s hope he kept his receipt.”

”Noooooo! Gromnir, NOOOOOOO!” Melissan suddenly burst into the room and crumpled to the floor, the pile of dust that had been Gromnir Il-Khan running through her fingers in a steady stream. ”I see that I am too late to stop this wanton bloodshed,” Melissan said, tears trickling down her cheeks. ”Oh Gromnir, woe!” 

”Er, sorry?” Zaerini said with an apologetic grin. ”But he did mean to kill us, you know. He wasn’t exactly reasonable about it.”

”Oh, I understand, I quite understand,” Melissan said. She swiftly wiped her tears away with one hand, leaving little smudges of Gromnir on her face and then stood, decisively smoothing her blue dress. ”As tragical as this is, I understand you had no choice. I’m sure the people of Saradush won’t blame you too much as they are all slaughtered without the heroic Gromnir Il-Khan to protect them either.”

”Oh, please,” Viconia scoffed. ”The man was clearly delusional. Even had he cared to protect anything other than his own skin, he was so far gone into la-la land that he would have been a liability rather than an asset on a battlefield.” Viconia’s red eyes narrowed. ”I cannot imagine how you failed to spot that.”

”Well,” Melissan said, smiling a brittle smile which didn’t quite reach her eyes. She adjusted her neat coils of red hair. ”We’d been out of touch.”

”Speaking of that,” Edwin said. ”How exactly is it that you are here? Didn’t you say you needed us to access this place and speak to Gromnir? (If it turns out she could just have waltzed in here all along, I’ll reunite her with her beloved Gromnir by way of hellfire.)”

”Ah, yes,” Melissan said, the smile never leaving her face. ”Gromnir had taken me prisoner. As you say, he’d grown delusional enough to mistrust even me.”

”So…if he took you prisoner, then how come you’re not in a cell somewhere?” Imoen said, scratching her head. ”That’s what’s usually happens when you’re a prisoner. I should know.”

”Oh, I escaped.” Melissan nodded. ”There was this dog in the prison area, with the key to my cell hanging around his neck. I found a bone, a sad and lonely bone, in my cell, and I flicked it over to entice the dog closer. Then, using a cunning mechanism of wires put together from old coathangers, combined with a fishhook, a tailfeather from a talking parrot, and a rubber chicken on a pulley, I picked the lock and made my daring escape!” She paused, observing the adventurers. ”Fine, fine. I told the guard I’d sleep with him and kneed him in the groin when he opened the celldoor. Happy now?”

_The first story sounded more plausible_ , Rini thought. _Then again, who knows._

”Hey, none of our business,” She simply said, shrugging. ”But what is our business, is that we still need to leave this place. I know we didn’t manage to draft Gromnir for your army, but we tried our best, and now we really need those shields down so we can get out of here.” _And I hope I can manage the teleport trick without messing something up._

Melissan frowned briefly, and for a moment Rini was sure she would refuse. Then the older woman nodded, as if she’d made a difficult decision. ”Very well. There is little reason to keep you confined to the city now. You will be able to be of far more aid to Saradush if allowed to leave.”

”Saradush?” Edwin scoffed. ”This miserable dustbowl, this insignificant fleck of dirt on a best forgotten map? Why should...ow!”

”Right you are!” Rini said, hoping Melissan hadn’t seen her pinch her lover. ”Just let us leave and we’ll get right on to that.”

”Boo approves, helping people is important! Can we charge into battle and lay waste to all the evil giants now?”

”Um, maybe later.”

Melissan cleared her throat. ”I am not blind,” She calmly stated. ”I know that once I have let you go, you may think you have no reason to do as I ask. This is, however, quite wrong. Yaga-Shura intends to slay all Children of Bhaal, leaving himself as the sole surviving heir to Bhaal’s power. I’m sure I needn’t point out to you that if you don’t go after him he will eventually come after you.”

”Hmpf,” Sarevok scoffed. ”No imagination at all. Just throwing himself randomly at a city like that. At least I was subtle with my schemes. Does this Yaga-Shura even bother to hire any assassins, I ask you?”

”Well there was this woman in the woods who tried to kill me,” Rini admitted. ”No idea who she was working for though.”

”Fine, but he still doesn’t have anything as ingenious as my iron-poisoning scheme up his sleeve, does he? Just a huge army of firegiants. Not that I’d have said no to a huge army of firegiants at the time.”

”Let’s say I agree with you,” Rini said, turning to Melissan again. ”How am I supposed to kill Yaga-Shura? He’s a giant in the middle of an army of giants. How am I supposed to get to him?”

Melissan smiled pleasantly. ”I’m afraid getting to him will be the easy part. You see, Yaga-Shura is invulnerable.”

”Oh is that all,” Edwin sneered. ”Any other joyous news? Would you like us to attempt finding dry water perhaps, or bring you the legs of a snake or an honest politician?”

”More importantly,” Viconia commented, ”Does he have any nice treasure?”

”I cannot say how to defeat him,” Melissan solemnly said, clasping her hands in front of her. ”What I do know, however, is that Yaga-Shura wasn’t always invulnerable. He was raised not amongst his own kin, but in the Forest of Mir, not far from here. Something…happened to him, there. Perhaps there, you may find an answer. Will you at least agree to try?”

”I’ve got something else I need to find as well,” Rini said. ”But I also don’t want to get killed, so…”

”Where you choose to go first is your choice,” Melissan said. ”I will ask no more than that you try. Now, I will raise the shield protecting the city in exactly an hour’s time, and for five minutes only. If you intend to leave through magical means that will be the time to do it.” She nodded to them all, her blue eyes cool and calm. ”I will see you again. I pray you succeed and return triumphant.” Then she swept out of the room, head held high. 

”Don’t tell me you trust her,” Imoen said, putting her hand on her sister’s arm. 

”No,” Rini said with a sigh. ”I don’t. She’s definitely got some sort of agenda of her own. But I don’t think she’s lying about Yaga-Shura, at least. Still, before we go chasing off after the giant, we’ve got other things to do. Right, Eddie?”

Edwin smiled at her. 

-*-

One hour later, Zaerini was coming to the conclusion that focusing mysterious inherited divine powers of teleportation would be a whole lot easier if there wasn’t the constant distraction of fireballs crashing down into the street outside the inn. Knowing that her time was limited didn’t exactly help either. 

_You worry too much_ , Softpaws told her, her silky head butting against the half-elf’s hand. Rini had closed her eyes in order to help concentrate, and also in order not to have to see the anxious faces of her companions. _You know what to do, you’ve done it before. Just pull yourself together, and we will be there._

_Oh yes? And since when are cats experts on dimensionjumping?_

_Pfft. All cats know how to be where they want to be. So do you, Kitten. That other place is as real as this one. There’s no reason why we shouldn’t be there rather than here, is there?_

_Huh. I suppose so…_

She could feel shadows, swirling around her, higher and higher, dancing lazily like rising smoke. She pulled them closer, inside, and she could see the place she wanted to be in her mind’s eye now, the darkness of her own pocketplane reaching out to greet her. _Then again…the way it’s set up is pretty dull and boring, isn’t it? I’m sure I could do better…_

That thought stuck with her even as she felt a peculiar twisting sensation in her stomach, and when she opened her eyes again, she saw that she’d been right. It was the pocketplane, she could feel Bhaal’s power surrounding it, enclosing it from all sides. However, it didn’t look the way it had before. Gone were the stone platforms and the echoing emptiness. Instead, she was standing in a glade within a dark forest. There was a campsite here, with covered wagons painted in all the colours of the rainbow, and decorated with grinning faces, winking stars and esoteric runes. The fire in the middle of the glade was warm and inviting, but with an odd purple tinge to it. Faint, tinkling music hung in the air, a melody both mirthful and vaguely sinister, and though the musicians were nowhere to be seen she could also hear the occasional muffled giggle from within the tall trees and glimpse quick flashes of shining eyes. 

“Well,” Viconia said, raising an eyebrow. “It is an improvement of sorts, I suppose. Did you remember to stock those wagons with food?”

“No idea,” Rini admitted, still taking everything in with wide eyes. “If I didn’t, I can probably fix that. I think in this place I can pretty much do what I want.”

“Just so, little sister,” Sarevok said with a thin smile. “You have learned much.”

“I hope the beds are good,” Imoen wistfully said. “Dibs on that pink wagon, by the way!”

“The beds can wait,” Edwin insisted. “We have places to go, remember?”

“Of course, Eddie,” Rini said, squeezing his hand. “Just…remember that I’m new to this, ok? I’m really improvising here.”

“I understand,” He admitted. “It is just...who knows how much time we have?”

“Heroic rescues wait for no man,” Minsc agreed. “Our poor lost friend may be suffering horribly in the clutches of the Evil Wizards even now, denied even the comfort of a friendly hamster to soothe his soul in his final hours. We must go at once, is that not so, friend Edwin?”

Edwin nodded faintly, his face a ghastly pale yellow. 

“Right,” Rini said, inwardly wondering how to tell Minsc to avoid further attempts at encouragement. “Let’s see what I can do.” 

It was easier this time around, she was more in control of the Bhaalpower by now and it all felt more natural. Was it stronger as well? It felt that way. _Or is it me? Where will it end, I wonder?_ But, no, that was a distracting thought. Focus was the key here. Her will guided this tiny world, and she couldn’t afford to let it go astray, or bad things might happen. _Vadrak Dekaras, where are you?_ There was something…a glimmer, a shift within the dark forest, rustling noises crying out to be heard. But she was blocked, there were barriers in her path, icy walls she kept slipping against. _Powerful. Very powerful. But there are other ways._ If she couldn’t go through the walls, she could find a way around them, surely. _I can’t travel directly to him it seems. But a place where we can learn where to go next, yes. There will be a trail, and I will find it._

Just as she thought that the thorny branches of the bushes parted, creaking as they twisted out of her way. There was a path before her where none had been before, narrow and winding, and the ground was glowing with a faint red light. 

“Spooky,” Imoen said. She bent down to poke the ground. “What’s doing it?”

“Me, I think,” Rini said with an apologetic shrug. “It’ll make it easier to find the way. This path should take us closer, at least.”

“And if doesn’t?” Edwin said. He didn’t sound accusing. In a way, that would have been better. 

“Then we try again,” She firmly stated. “And again, and again, if we have to, until we get it right.” She smiled at him, trying to make it look as confident as she could. “Race you there?” She didn’t wait for him to answer, but she took his hand again and pulled him along, pausing only to make sure that the others were with her. The branches closed in again behind her. It was pitch black here, only the red glow of the path to be seen, and the whispers and giggles in the forest grew louder. 

_…astray…?_

_…no…the path is clear…_

_…in the darkness, can there be clarity?_

_…sssh…_

_…dark ones are…_

_….and She…_

_…her? Or the other…._

_…lies, truth…beware!_

_…they are waiting._

Just as she thought she wouldn’t be able to stand it any longer, the path widened, and there was light ahead of her. Only faint light, but natural, the pale light of a starry sky and a gibbous moon, and as she took her next step, she knew she was no longer within the pocketplane. There was a forest still, and it had a dark and oppressive feel to it, with low branches nearly blotting out the sky, but it was a natural forest all the same. She turned around, doing a quick headcount, and then sighed with relief that all of her friends were present and accounted for. Then she turned again, to get her bearings, and she felt a scream rising in her throat as the darkness rose out of the ground like a pillar of smoke and ashes, only to take on a horribly familiar shape.


	10. Mother and Orphan

**Throne of Cards 10 – Mother and Orphan**

_Family comes in all shapes and sizes, some of them unexpected. The strongest ties, for good or ill, don’t have to be ties of blood._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

The old man wore a cloak of shadows, and shadows crawled like snakes along his slightly stooped form and formed viscous puddles at his feet. His face was pale, the masklike face of a corpse, with deep, dark pits where the eyes should have been. 

“Child,” He spoke, and his voice echoed and warbled in a way that made not just the ears, but the soul hurt. “Oh, my child, look at you.”

“Gorion…” Zaerini squeaked, the word almost sticking in her dry throat. Her chest was constricting, her breathing quick and labored. She was unable to take her eyes off this twisted mockery of her foster father, despite how much it hurt. 

“Look at you,” The specter said, shaking its head in dismay. “Look at what you have become. A murderer…worse, a monster. The power of Bhaal rages within you, unchecked, untempered.”

“No! That’s not true!” The unfairness of the accusation was a searing whip, a redhot brand against an open wound. And yet…was there a not a glimmer of truth in the cruel words? “I’ve got it under control, I’m not letting it rule me! I’ve been trying to make you proud!”

“And you’ve failed,” Gorion said, shaking his head once again. “My child…look at all the lives you have taken, the misery left in your wake. Look at the company you keep. Misfits and rogues, villains of the darkest hue…they have helped speed the corruption along.”

“No!”

“I should have left you behind,” that cold, uncaring voice said. “Far better that you had died as an infant, the way fate intended. The Realms would have been a safer, more orderly place, and I…I would still be alive, would I not?”

Zaerini couldn’t even answer that. She felt her knees buckling, and only Minsc and Edwin hurriedly grabbing her arms kept her from dropping to the ground. 

“Hey!” Imoen piped up, angrily shaking a finger at the ghostly apparition. “That’s not fair! You leave Rini alone!”

“And you, Imoen,” The shadowy form of Gorion tutted. “So young, so easily led. So weak. It is no great surprise that you have fallen along with your sister. You were, after all, always a mere afterthought. Why else do you suppose I did not bring you out of Candlekeep along with Zaerini? Your life, and your death, were always merely…incidental.”

Imoen gasped, as if she’d been slapped. 

“You talk entirely too much for a dead man,” Sarevok growled. “I killed you once, as I recall. It should be no great chore to repeat the process, and it will be my pleasure.”

The specter laughed. “The spare and the rejected both speak!” It chuckled. “Are you happy to tag along after your younger sibling now? Are you not afraid you will be left behind…once again? You still remember it, do you not?”

Sarevok’s eyes narrowed. 

“You cried, alone in the dust, little boy. For me! For me to save you. Well, this time I will not ignore you, you may count on that.”

“Stop it!” Rini choked out. “Leave us alone! Go away!”

“Depart, spirit!” Edwin hissed. “Or you will shortly find yourself repeatedly reanimated, discorporated and incinerated.”

“Of course,” It mocked. “The Great Wizard would not listen to me, would he? Well, perhaps you will listen to somebody else.”

More shadows gathered along the ground, floating closer and closer, coming together. They rose higher, taking shape and hideous form. 

“Ah, there you are, boy,” Dekaras said, his voice the same lifeless and cold monotone as Gorion’s was, but instantly recognizable. The shadows wrapped themselves around him like chains, a shroud of deepest night, but none as terrible as the ones where his eyes should have been. “I regret to say that your tardiness is not improved. You are too late.”

“No…” Edwin whispered; his own face nearly as pale as that of the undead assassin. “No, it cannot be true…the amulet…”

“…shows the faintest glimmer, a mere spark, does it not? Which is all that remains of me, thanks to you. It may interest you to know that my end was excruciatingly painful, and very slow. But no, why would I think it would interest you?” The assassin leaned closer, his words dripping like soft poison into the trembling wizard’s ear. “If it did, I’m sure you would have arrived in time to prevent it.”

“No! I tried my best, I swear it!”

“Well then, your best clearly wasn’t good enough, now was it? How very…disappointing.” The shadows flared up higher as the undead glided noiselessly across the ground. Pale fingers, tipped with sharp claws reached out for the paralyzed wizard, lightly scraping along his cheek. “And after everything I’ve done for you too. You’ve failed me, and you will never repay that debt.” The claws pressed a little deeper, drawing blood. “I do not rest in peace, Edwin.” The undead chuckled darkly, a sound which had very little sanity or true mirth to it. “No, no peace under the green hills or grassy mounds for me.”

_Under the hill…._ Rini thought. _My last Reading…is that what it meant? No. No, surely not. I was so sure it was important._ She could feel cold tears on her face, and she felt too stricken to even try to step aside as the two ghostly figures swelled and grew taller, the cold smiles on their gaunt faces eating into her very soul and sapping her of strength and will. Why fight anymore? Didn’t she deserve this? More shadows were appearing along the ground, smaller and shapeless, yet bowing to the will of the two greater ones, silently surrounding the party. Imoen was trembling, and Sarevok, though he had a feral snarl on his face, was paler than she could remember seeing him before. 

“That will do,” Viconia firmly said, raising her hand. She was holding something small aloft, a black disc with a purple border. “The Lady of Shadows speaks through me, her chosen priestess. Darkness and night are her domains, and their secrets are hers to keep or share. You will submit to her will, wraiths.” 

The two undead hissed, their faces blurring, becoming less distinct. As the resemblance faded, the inertia of despair also lessened. Rini shuddered, feeling as if she was just awakening from a horrible nightmare, still unsure what was real or not. Meanwhile, Minsc firmly grasped Edwin by the shoulder, pulling him out of the way of the wraiths. The wizard struggled weakly against the berserker’s grasp but was still too shocked to do more than that. 

“Stand fast, friends!” Minsc said. “These are evil shades, lies sent to hurt and to trick. Boo says, who sent them?”

“Yes…” Viconia murmured, her eyes glowing in the darkness as she fearlessly walked closer to the swirling shadows. “That is a good question. Vampiric wraiths delight in suffering and exist to cause torment. They are intelligent undead, and the most powerful ones can pluck from your mind the very instruments with which to cause pain. But these two…they were prepared. Who prepared you, shades? Who sent you here, and why? I command you, tell me the truth.”

“To probe, and to goad,” The Gorion wraith said, his mouth impossibly long now, reaching all the way to his ears, and his voice filled with malice. “To get close, to kill if possible, to unbalance if not. To distract.”

“That is a ‘why’. And who did this? Melissan?”

“We do not know this ‘Melissan’,” The Dekaras wraith said. His head was distorted, far too tall and seemingly melting. A single shadowy eye glared back at the priestess. “We were sent by the Lady of the Grove.”

“Who?”

“We were her loyal servants in life, as we are in death,” The wraith spoke. “We will never betray her.”

Viconia smiled, a nasty little smile which did not reach her eyes. “Oh yes, you _will_. Who is she? Tell me now.”

“Her name is holy; we do not know it.”

“We cannot tell you.”

“Tell me.”

The wraiths shrieked, an impossibly high, buzzing noise. “She is…she is the Guardian of the Ring of Grey Flames.”

“She is the Keeper of the Running Rocks.”

“She is the Mother of the Sisters.”

“She is…is…she is the _Oluanna_. No man may stand against her.”

“Too bad,” Viconia told them. “I am no man. Is that all you can tell me?” The wraiths shrieked again in wordless agony, held fast by the binding power of her holy symbol. “Then be gone.” 

The two wraiths were torn asunder, flecks and tendrils of shadow scattering and dispersing, flung far away from the shocked people watching. Once they were gone, the forest was still dark, the shadows were still long, but they felt natural now, and in the distance Zaerini could hear the small rustles and creaks of animals moving about. 

“Did you kill them?” She asked, her voice sounding shrill to her own ears. She was clutching Edwin’s arm tightly, and he was absently patting her hand, but he still looked dazed, his face haunted. 

“No,” Viconia said, putting her holy symbol away. “They were too powerful for that, I’m afraid.” She smirked. “I did send them back to their mistress though, and by a very scenic route I might add. I don’t think they will enjoy it very much.”

“They weren’t real, were they?” Imoen pleaded.

“They certainly weren’t the people they were pretending to be.”

Sarevok slowly exhaled. “It seems there is yet another foe arrayed against us. I look forward to meeting them in person.”

“Me too,” Rini agreed, hot anger now pushing the previous icy despair aside. Edwin was still looking as if somebody had slapped him and then killed and eaten his favorite puppy. Somebody would pay for that. 

“This cannot be,” Minsc said, scratching at his bald head with uncharacteristic worry. “Boo, why would they say such a thing? It makes no sense.”

“What is it, Minsc?” Zaerini asked him, craning her neck backwards to look up into the tall man’s face. “What do you mean?”

“The _Oluanna_. How can it be?”

“Er, search me? Do you mean you know what that word means?”

“Yes. Little Rini, that word means ‘Chosen One’. That is a word in the holy mother tongue of Rasheman.”

“Thank you, Minsc,” Rini slowly said, her mind racing to put the pieces of the puzzle together. “You’ve been very helpful. But you’re wrong. It does make perfect sense.” _Much as I might wish that it didn’t._

-*-

The shadows of the forest were unusually restless today. The woman sitting on the cracked stone floor of the ruined temple raised her head, peering out into the darkness. Were intruders coming? But why would anybody come here? The temple was broken, the people were lost, and her boy…her boy…

She shuddered, forcing the thoughts away. Not thinking too much was better. Thinking of what had gone before drove icy splinters through her mind. Far better to simply act. Eat, sleep, eliminate. Even so, if intruders had come, she’d better be ready to take steps. She raised her hand to push the matted clumps of hair away from her face, marveling at how emaciated it had become, how long and sharp her yellow nails. As for the hair itself, the less said of it the better. 

_It used to shine_ , she thought with something resembling sorrow. _It used to shine in the light._

Joints creaking and protesting, she struggled to her feet and slowly walked towards the entrance of the temple. There was a bit of ceiling left here still, useful for shelter on rainy days, and she could often find food beneath the mossy stones. Not the kind of food she would once have preferred, perhaps, but enough to keep her going. _Until the boy can be found. Yessss._ And there, above the crumbling door, the grinning skull, the Tears surrounding it. Her god, lost as well. 

“I tell you, there’s somebody there!” A voice, clear as a bell within the strangling shadows of the deep undergrowth. “I know I saw something.”

Other voices, less important, answering the first one. The woman in the temple narrowed her eyes, straining to see better. It had been so long, too long. Even so, she didn’t think she was mistaken.

“Guests?” She croaked, her voice rasping and creaky from long neglect. “Guests for poor old Nyalee?” Her name – for it was her name, wasn’t it? It tasted so odd in her mouth. 

The group of people stepped out of the shadows now. Six of them there were, but one more important than the others. She burned, like a flame so bright she burned. How was it possible the others with her did not see it? It made Nyalee want to fall to her knees and weep, if she had still had it in her to do so. _Close. She is so close. One other, a lesser Spawn…but this greater one is near to ascension. How many deaths has she consumed to come so far?_

“I don’t know,” The hypnotic voice, the voice with the Master’s power in it, spoke. “I was told there was somebody in this forest who might know something I need to know.”

“Nyalee has known many things,” She said. “And forgotten many more! Child of Murder, what do you wish to know of poor Nyalee?”

“For one thing, that you might stop speaking in the third person and start making sense!” This was one of the others, a young man in a red magerobe. He sounded more than a little frustrated, and didn’t look all that well, from what Nyalee could remember of other people. “Why is it always gibbering lunatics we need to interview, I wonder? (How difficult can it be to keep one’s conversation clear and lucid?)”

“Shush, Eddie,” The Bright One gently admonished. The burning gaze turned to Nyalee again. “I was told that somebody in these parts knows of Yaga-Shura.”

“Oh, Nyalee knows!” She said, a bubbling cackle close to bursting forth. “But why should Nyalee tell, hm? What do you want with Yaga-Shura, Child of Bhaal?”

“…I’m not even bothering to ask anymore how come people can tell so easily what I am,” The redhead muttered. “Fine, Nyalee. I need to know how Yaga-Shura can be killed.”

“Oh, Yaga-Shura cannot be killed, no, no, no,” Nyalee said, shaking her head vigorously, even as the strangers gave her looks which ranged from disappointment to disgust. “Not without his heart.”

“His heart?” The dark one said, her eyes glinting. “What of his heart, old one?”

“Hidden it was,” Nyalee said with a quick smile. “Cunning Nyalee…I protected my boy, my Yaga-Shura.”

“Your boy?” Said the younger Spawn, blinking. “But he…you…”

“Took him, Nyalee did,” Nyalee said. “Protected him, raised him for my own. Made him strong, made myself strong, for him, to give him what was needed. The magic was hidden and secret, but Nyalee delved deep in the dark, and Nyalee learnt how to do it. With the heart taken out, safe, hidden, nobody can kill Yaga-Shura. Not unless it is destroyed.”

“If you wanted to protect him, why are you telling us this?” The Bright One asked. 

Nyalee shuddered, her nails digging deep into her palms until slick blood trickled forth. “He tricked me!” She wailed, the pain still as fresh as it had been. “Yaga-Shura took Nyalee’s heart, took it away with him!”

“Ok…this is getting confusing. Why did he do that?”

“I assume to make certain he held power over her,” The wizard said. “As long as she knew how to work and reverse the spell, not to mention knew its secret, she would be a threat to him. He might have disposed of her outright, but I would postulate that he preferred to keep her alive and in his power, just in case he should need her again.”

The Bright One grimaced. “That’s pretty twisted.”

“Fire Giants aren’t known for their delicate sensibilities, my Hellkitten.”

Nyalee clawed at her own shoulders this time, curling in on herself, on the empty void where her heart had rested. “Yessss…” She said. “The clever boy, the betraying boy. My Yaga-Shura. He has hidden his heart along with Nyalee’s, in his stronghold to the east, in the Marching Mountains. Find the hearts, Child of Bhaal! Bring Nyalee her own heart back, and she will destroy the other one, to punish the wicked Yaga-Shura. Nyalee will help you if you help her, yes.”

“Fair enough, I suppose,” The Bright One said. “It’ll have to wait a while, but I’ll keep it in mind.” She turned to leave, speaking to the others as she did so. “Ok guys, I know how to work the whole teleportation thing this time around without error. I think. At least we learnt stuff we needed to know, so that’s a start.”

She walked away, but the other Spawn, the lesser one, quickly darted back to Nyalee, pressing something into the surprised woman’s hand. “Uh, here,” She said. “I was stuck in a cell once, and I’d lost a part of me too. I know how it feels when you just don’t care about anything anymore. This might help make you feel a little better at least. I’ve got a spare. Ok, see ya later!” With that she hurried off after her companions, leaving Nyalee staring in bafflement at the simple but sturdy comb resting in her bloody palm.

-*-

“So. Rasheman.” Zaerini sighed and rubbed her temple with her fingers, trying to make the headache go away. “Well, it’s another clue, I guess.” She looked out into the darkness surrounding the campfire. The pocketplane had seemed the best place to hold this discussion, safe and secluded. Even so, the occasional little soft giggles and whispers she could hear out there in the forest, beyond the glimmering lights, were a bit of a distraction. _Surely there can’t be anything actually hostile out there. After all I made this place, didn’t I?_

“Not a very helpful one,” Sarevok pointed out. The large warrior was standing with his back to the fire so that all she could see was his imposing silhouette and the gleam of his eyes. “Rasheman is a large country, you know. We cannot rush off without a plan.” 

“I know that,” Rini said, trying to sound more patient than she felt. She dared a quick glance at Edwin. The wizard was sitting next to her, but it felt as if he were miles away, and though he seemed to be staring into the fire, she suspected he might be seeing something else entirely. “I wasn’t suggesting it. We don’t even know Rasheman is the right place to go to, all we know is those wraiths were sent by somebody from Rasheman. That’s all.”

“Nope,” Imoen said. She was sitting astride a log by the fire, thoughtfully chewing on a fingernail, but now she looked up with a sharp glint in her eyes. “That’s not all. We’ve been going about this the wrong way.”

“What do you mean, Immy?”

“We don’t know where Vadrak is now, but we know where he was supposed to be going, don’t we? And we know where he left from, and I bet Edwin knows more or less the route he was planning to take.” She beat her fist against her open palm. “And we know he wouldn’t go down without a fight. A big fight. No matter where…where it happened, it’d have made a mess I bet would be hard to cover up all the way, even for somebody powerful. There’d be talk. So maybe we can’t travel to where he’s right now, but we can hop and skip all over the place until we find the place he disappeared from, and once we find that we can find out more.”

Edwin sat up a little straighter, looking intently at the pink haired girl. “I…” He started. “Why didn’t _I_ think of that?!”

Imoen grinned. “No offense, Eddie, but you’ve been a wreck and not really thinking straight, not that I blame you.”

“I didn’t think of it either,” Rini admitted with a rueful smile. 

“You’ve got the whole Bhaalspawn thing hanging over you, sis. More than I do, for sure, so I’ve had more time to think. Anyway, I’m the resident rogue, right? We’re good at finding things out. So how about it? Where do you guys want to start?”

-*-

“So, this is Thay,” Zaerini said, looking about with wide eyes, trying to take as much in as quickly as possible. She’d wanted to see Edwin’s home for quite some time now, and even if this wasn’t under the best of circumstances, she was determined to make the most of it. It was warm, that was the first thing she became aware of after leaving the dark and slightly chilly air of the pocketplane. Warm, yes, but not unpleasantly so. There was a faint breeze in the air, just cool enough. 

“Bit of a dump, isn’t it?” Imoen said, cocking her head to one side to inspect the grimy wall of the alleyway they’d materialized in. Rini had decided that a small scouting party was for the best, and so it was only herself, her lover and her best friend who were present. Minsc had protested about being separated from his Witch, even if only temporarily, but she didn’t even want to think about how things would likely end if she brought him into a Thayvian city. Sarevok and Viconia weren’t exactly inconspicuous either, and for this little outing she wanted to draw as little attention as possible. _And let’s hope the Red Wizards haven’t caught on about what happened with Degardan yet or we might just meet up with more assassins than we’d like._

“Your ignorance is entirely what might be expected,” Edwin said. He drew himself up to his full length and folded his hands into the sleeves of his robe. “Even Pyarados, grand jewel of Thay, is bound to have a few dark corners, the tiny imperfections to set off her radiance.”

“The graffiti’s much the same as in all other slums I’ve seen,” Imoen said with an impish grin. She pointed at the wall behind her, where there were indeed a number of fairly graphic drawings. Rini couldn’t read Thayvian very well yet, Edwin had been trying to teach her some basic vocabulary, but their busy schedule hadn’t let them get further than ‘Please can you show me the way to the nearest alchemist’ and ‘The zombies are coming.’ Oh, and a few more _private_ phrases, which she really, really hoped she wouldn’t accidentally blurt out while trying to order food in a restaurant. Even so, she gathered enough of the scribbled words underneath the drawings to get the general idea. One of them did in fact involve zombies, even if the context seemed to be all wrong. 

“Well, our vandals are more eloquent by far than the common street scrawlers of the decadent West!” Edwin sniffed. “Why, just look at…” He made a sweeping gesture with his elegantly manicured hand, and then saw what he was pointing at. “Er…yes. Eloquent. A picture counts for a thousand words, yes? Let’s not waste any more precious time.” He walked off in a hurry, the two women following him. 

“So…are you sure you’re not lost?” Rini said an hour later. The alleyway had led them into another alleyway, which led to a narrow street, and then a tunnel into a winding road which she felt sure had now looped back to the beginning. Judging from what little sun filtered down between the tall, dusty brown stone buildings it was morning, and these streets were quiet. She definitely didn’t want to be wandering around here after dark though, Bhaalspawn or not. Sometimes she’d see a shadow behind a narrow window, or a movement out of the corner of her eye, and there was an unpleasant itching sensation between her shoulderblades. 

“A wizard is never lost,” Edwin stated with a firm nod. “He is merely temporarily misplaced.” He smiled at her. “Besides, you forget that this is Thay. The Red Wizards rule supreme and none would dare cross me for fear of angering the order.”

“Yes, but…what if a Red Wizard happens to get quietly stabbed without any eyewitnesses? Then what?”

Edwin paused, his mouth slightly open and his finger raised in the air. “Let’s walk a little faster,” He said, his voice slightly high-pitched. “I’m fairly certain that…aha!” 

They’d come out into a smallish square, with an empty and cracked fountain in the middle and a few closed shops one of which seemed entirely devoted to selling mummies of various species. Rini winced slightly as she saw the neat stack of dry little cat mummies. 

_What does it matter?_ Softpaws asked. The black cat was walking at her side with her tail high and eyes bright as she surveyed this new place. _They are dead. They don’t care._

_I guess not, but…oh now what’s he up to?_

Edwin had walked up to a house which looked in every respect identical to the houses on either side of it. Tall, brown, dusty, windows mostly boarded up. He knocked on the unprepossessing and narrow front door until a small hatch was opened near the top. Rini couldn’t see the person behind it, but the hatch was high enough that she thought even a tall human would have trouble seeing through it. 

“Yeah?” A deep voice rumbled. 

“I believe you know me,” Edwin said in a quiet, measured voice. “I have been here before. In company.”

“Different time, different company, kid. Your earlier company’s not here. That means you don’t get in.”

Edwin gave a small, frustrated sigh, but there was no sign of the fireballs Rini was half expecting. “That’s as may be,” He said. “But I have other company to call upon. I believe ‘Orphan’ means something to you.”

A brief pause. “Wait here, kid. Don’t touch anything.” The hatch slid shut. 

“I really wouldn’t,” Edwin warned Imoen who was edging closer to the door, peering intently at it. “Not if you prefer to keep your internal organs inside your body rather than in a bucket.”

“Hey, I’m pretty good with traps now, you know!”

“I wasn’t referring to the traps,” Edwin darkly said. “We’re being watched.”

“I don’t see anybody. Oh. Right. Ok then. Who’s this orphan we’re meeting? Didn’t know you were into charity. What do you do, give them lollipops and take them to the park?”

“No, I…”  
“No, but he _should_!” a piping voice said from the door. “I haven’t had a lollipop in ages. Hiya Eddie-kins!” A small blur tackled the wizard’s midriff and Edwin staggered backwards with a small ‘oof’, trying in vain to dislodge the Halfling woman clinging to his waist. After the split-second it took her to decide that her lover wasn’t in fact under attack, Rini watched with great interest. The Halfling had shiny brown hair, tied into two thick and bouncing pigtails, with red and purple ribbons threaded into them. She had round, red cheeks, and bright eyes, and judging from the way her legs were firmly clamped around the back of Edwin’s thighs she was far stronger than she looked. 

“Please…let go…can’t breathe…” Edwin wheezed, but he made no move of aggression, settling for hugging the Halfling awkwardly. 

“Not until you give your Auntie Poppy a big, sloppy kiss, Eddie-kins! Mwah! Ok, that’s better. Who are your friends? It’s so great to see you’ve brought friends, you’ve always been too much of a loner, just like Dekkie, that’s what I always tell him, but _he_ says…where is he anyway?” She frowned at Edwin’s dismayed face, and the suddenly flinty look in her eyes made Rini reassess her once again. She half suspected this seemingly bouncy and cheerful little woman might be able to beat Jon Irenicus in a staring contest, and though there was no weapon in sight the bard very carefully avoided making any sudden movements. 

“Right,” The Halfling said, pursing her lips. “Let’s go somewhere we can talk. And then I want you to tell your Auntie Poppy _everything_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Poppy! I really enjoy writing her, and I also really enjoyed writing Rini's first impressions of Thay. More of those to follow shortly, of course.


	11. Chocolate and Checkpoints

**Throne of Cards 11 – Chocolate and Checkpoints**

_Thayvian courting is a complicated process, traditionally made easier by fine diplomacy, honest intentions and the appropriate protective spells and armor. When it comes to the nearest and dearest, you may also want to add a few prayers to the deity of your choice._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“More cake?” Poppy pleasantly asked. “That blueberry one is really good, if you ask me. More hot chocolate?”

Zaerini was sorely tempted, the cake looked delicious, but she rather suspected that she might burst if she had anything else to eat right now. She chose to look around instead, while the peculiar little Halfling sipped at her hot chocolate, seemingly deep in thought. The tea- and coffeehouse Poppy had escorted her and her friends to was definitely improving her first impression of Thay. Once they had emerged from the drab backstreets of the slums, she’d started seeing more and more shops, and elegantly dressed people. This place now…it was definitely something else. It seemed to cater mostly to children, extravagantly wealthy children at that. The waiters all seemed to be either humanoid animals walking on two legs, or else dressed up like fairies or goblins. The costumes weren’t cheap either, in fact in the case of the animals she thought she could just glimpse the edges of a very sophisticated illusion spell rather than a furry suit. Certainly the tails and whiskers twitched in a very realistic manner. The food and drink had materialized on their table by another spell, a mere few minutes after Poppy had placed her order, and there was music playing, cheerful and bouncy music played by invisible hands. It was quite good, really. Edwin had picked at his food, but Imoen had tucked in with obvious pleasure, earning a quick grin of approval from the Halfling woman. 

“Thank you, Aunt Poppy,” Edwin said, in such a polite manner that Rini had to turn her head to make sure it really was him who’d spoken. “But I’m afraid I have little appetite for food. It has been a…a trying time.”

“Aww, it’s fine,” Poppy said, patting him reassuringly on the hand. “Let’s hear about it, then.”

“Are you sure it’s safe to speak here?” Rini asked, looking around. There were children everywhere. Singing, shouting, running, dancing, chattering, giggling, crying and in the case of one unfortunate toddler, puking. The adults with them all sported the grim pallor of one staring death in the face and trying to be brave about it. 

“Oh sure,” Poppy said. “All the kiddies here make sure nobody will hear a thing we say. That’s the reason I picked this place.” She smiled again. “That, and the cake. Little Eddie-kins used to love to come here when he was much shorter than he is now. He once set fire to a fairy princess and they banned him from the premises, but I bet they won’t recognize him with the beard.”

“…I was trying to teach myself to breathe fire,” Edwin muttered, his cheeks going dark red. “It was an accident waiting to happen, with those gauzy wings.”

“Right,” Rini said, very carefully not laughing. “I can see that.”

“Anyway,” Edwin hurriedly said, “I’m afraid I have the direst news, Aunt Poppy. It is a long and complicated story, so I must summarize it.” He proceeded to do so, with Rini and Imoen adding their own input from time to time. “…and then we came here,” He finally ended. 

Poppy sat quiet for a moment, thoughtfully chewing at the end of a brown pigtail “Wow,” She finally said. Then she nodded to herself, her eyes sparkling. “So, I was right after all about the two of you,” She said. “I always thought as much. Dekkie, you naughty boy, you should have told me. You should have known you could trust me.”

“I’m certain he did…does,” Edwin said. His hands trembled slightly as they rested on the pristine white tablecloth. “But after all, he didn’t even tell _me_ the truth of our relation until just recently.”

“And isn’t that just typical of him? Well, better late than never.”

“Aunt Poppy, I’m not sure if I made myself entirely clear to you. He is…he…”

“…is in terrible trouble. Yup. I got it.” Poppy gave Edwin a compassionate look. “He’s my Best Friend, Eddie-kins. I’ve known him since we were both this tall. I’d do anything for him. So, you know I care, it’s just that I’ve had more time to get used to this sort of thing than you have. We’ll fix this, just you wait and see.”

“But what if…”

“…if it’s too late?” Poppy’s twinkling brown eyes suddenly turned icy cold. “Then I guess I’ll go and paint a few streets red with the people who’re to blame. Got a brush handy? No? That’s fine, their scalps should work just fine.”

Rini blinked. The transformation had been so sudden, and slightly unnerving. Poppy must have noticed her look, for she was smiling again, an impish look in her eyes. 

“I _am_ in the same profession Dekkie is, you know,” She said. “We’ve just got differences in technique, that’s all.”

“Aunt Poppy prefers subterfuge,” Edwin said with a fond smile. “She’s very good at it.”

“Aw, you flatterer!” Poppy nodded. “It’s pretty handy to be small sometimes,” She said. “I can usually get away with pretending to be a human child. It lets me get closer to people, you see. Lots closer.”

“Is it true you once got yourself adopted by a target?” Edwin asked with a certain amount of curiosity.

“Yup! That’s why they call me The Orphan, see. That one was fond of little children. Really fond, if you see what I mean.” Poppy took another sip from her cup of hot chocolate and proceeded to lick off a mustache of whipped cream. “Yum. Where was I? Right. He wanted to ‘read me a bedtime story’. Said he had a nice surprise for me.” She smiled sweetly. “I had a surprise for him too.” 

“So…is that why you wear pigtails?” Imoen asked in a fascinated voice. 

“Nope, I just like them. They do help though.”

“We definitely can use any help you can give us,” Rini said. “Right now, we’re trying to find out exactly where Vadrak disappeared from, and I bet you’ve got contacts who could help with that.”

“Do I ever,” Poppy said with a nod. “I know lots of nice people. Some not-so-nice ones too. I’ll talk to them. ”

“Finding out if he made it across the border to Thay would be a nice start. If he didn’t, we’ll go further back along the trail. In the meantime, I think we should try to find out just what’s been going on around here. That letter about Edwin’s mother was so very convenient, wasn’t it?”

Edwin nodded. “It seemed genuine enough at the time,” He said. “But now I wonder…Aunt Poppy, do you have any news about Mother? The letter claimed she’d been taken into custody, falsely accused.”

Poppy pursed her lips in thought. “I don’t go Uptown much, Eddie, unless I’m working. And since neither Dekkie nor you were home, I wasn’t paying much attention. Still, I did hear that Galen Odesseiron had disappeared, and that there was a lot of fuss among the Red Ones. I was out of town right when that happened, and I haven’t been back long, so afraid I can’t say what’s true or not about your Ma. I think maybe you’d better go see for yourself.”

“Yes,” Edwin said with a nod. “While Mother is admirably suited to dealing with most political problems, I must admit I’ve been worried about her as well. She may not be in mortal danger, but even so I want to find out the truth and give what aid I can.”

“Of course,” Rini said, planting a quick kiss on his cheek and squeezing his hand. “We can go there right now, if you like.” She turned her head to see Poppy beaming at her. 

“Awww…” The Halfling said. She was leaning her chin in her hands and her eyes were twinkling again as she watched them. “Cute, cute, cuuuute! You really care about him, I can tell. It makes me really, really happy, because I like you and I’d hate to have to kill you for smushing his heart into itty bitty little red and dripping pieces.” 

“Er…thanks,” Rini said. “I…”

“Dibs on being the ring bearer! I’ve never done that, but I bet it’s fun. I’ll bear it wherever you like. Any especial ring you’d like? I could find one for you, how about a magic one? You wouldn’t need to pay a single gold piece either, not with me doing the shopping.”

“Aunt Poppy!” Edwin protested. “I haven’t even asked…I mean I…not yet that is, even if possibly…we….unless she…” He broke off into incoherent stutters and his cheeks once again turned bright red. Zaerini felt her own face growing rather hot and she had to suppress a nervous giggle. 

“You haven’t?!” Poppy said, her eyes very round. “Well hurry up about it then! You’re old enough even without that funny little beard, and you like her, so what’re you waiting for?” She hopped down from her chair and waved at the three startled humans. “I’d better be off, and same goes for you. See you later! Remember what I said about me being the ring bearer, Eddie-kins.” She patted the wizard on the knee and then headed out the door, humming to herself. 

“So,” Imoen said with a sly smile as she looked from the wizard to the bard. “Anything you’re dying to ask my big sister….Eddie-kins?”

“Gah!” Edwin exclaimed covering his face with his palm. “Interfering…little…let’s head out shall we, time is a wasting. (And my beard is not ‘funny’, it is stylish and overwhelmingly masculine.)”

“Right,” Rini hurriedly agreed, hooking her arm under her lover’s. “Let’s go to your place.” She smiled at him. “And I agree about the beard, you know.” His answering smile, as it frequently did, made her knees feel weak and watery, and it was entirely worth it.

As they progressed through the streets of Pyarados, Rini noticed a gradual change. The streets sloped gently upwards, and she thought she could also detect a spiral pattern to them, leading inwards. The further uphill they got, the more imposing were the houses lining the streets and the more finely dressed were the people. Craftsmen and traders had now given way to nobles dripping with jewels, priests in rich silk robes and yes, now and then a Red Wizard. Edwin had pulled his hood down, and she noticed that he walked just a little bit faster whenever they passed one of the wizards. None of them seemed to pay any particular attention to the trio, however. And now they were past the fascinating shop windows were magical treasures beckoned and heading into quiet streets where high walls kept all intruders out. Beyond them she could glimpse the towering columns and shining roofs of what amounted to small castles. It was getting dark by now, and the mild air carried with it a heady scent of flowers. 

“At last,” Edwin said as he stopped before a towering black iron gate. The wall it was set into was very smooth, Zaerini noticed. She reached out an experimental finger and found it was as slick as glass. There seemed to be spikes on top of it, and barbed wire curling between the spikes. 

Edwin rapped smartly on the gate with a knocker shaped like a fivepointed star. The knocker shuddered briefly, and a burning red eye opened in the center of the star. “Who seeks entry into House Odesseiron?” A flat, tinny voice said. There was no obvious mouth in sight, but it definitely came from the knocker. 

“It is I, Zoog,” Edwin said with a slightly exasperated sigh. “Edwin Odesseiron. You know me, and very well you should, I might add.”

“Zoog?” Rini mouthed. 

“I got to name him,” Edwin explained, not taking his eyes off the knocker. “I wasn’t all that old at the time, if you must know. I’m afraid that while he is a very good gatekeeper, Father did perhaps imprint him to be just slightly too paranoid.”

“I can hear you; you know!” Zoog said with a huff. “And you could be an intruder in disguise. Prove yourself!”

“Now listen here, you aggravating cyclopean piece of scrap metal! Let me in right now, or…”

“Ahem. Specifications on enchanted door defense system, model 6333, sub-system Elder Sign Delta. Cannot be melted, crushed, incinerated, cut, bruised, pulverized, dislodged, coerced, bribed, seduced, corroded or polymorphed. Foolproof against anything up to divine intervention. So nyah.” 

“Hellkitten?” Edwin said, giving Rini a pleading look. “Could you maybe…” He made a wiggling gesture with his fingers which bore a vague resemblance to cat ears, and then nodded at the doorknocker. 

“You want me to turn into the Slayer to break down the door to your family home? Are you sure that’s such a good idea, Eddie? I’d like to make a good first impression on your mother, if possible. Besides, I’m not a god, exactly. I don’t even know if it’d work.”

“Anyways, it may not be necessary,” Imoen chipped in. “Hey, doorbell!”

“My name is Zoog!”

“Right, Zoog. We’re looking for the lady of the house. Is she at home?”

The doorknocker sniffed, a haughty and metallic little noise. “Lady Odesseiron is not at home,” It said. “Nor is Lord Galen Odesseiron. Nor is young Master Edwin Odesseiron.”

“I know I’m not at home, you demented dimbulb of a doorknocker! I’m standing RIGHT HERE, getting gradually older as you make me waste precious time with trifles!”

The doorknocker blinked. “Young Master Edwin?” It said. “Why, why didn’t you simply say so?”

“Gah! I did, just now! So, can I come in?”

“No,” Zoog said, and there was a definite smirk in the tinny voice now. “Not unless you prove your identity. No bypassing of the security checks, no matter what the excuse, Master Dekaras was most particular about that as he programmed me.”

Edwin said a few choice words about certain infuriating particularities of Master Dekaras, but he finally rolled his eyes and shrugged. “Very well, if we must go through this charade every single time, then have it your way.” He leaned closer to the doorknocker and stared into the red eye. There was a clicking, whirring noise.

“Retinal scan complete,” Zoog said. “Now, the other one.”

“Oh, honestly…”

“Somebody might have cut out the eye of the real Edwin Odesseiron and brought it along. The other eye, if you please. Good. Now fingerprints. Very good. Voice record matches. Now the personal password.”

“Er…what was it again…it’s been so long…(And of course he made me reset it just before I left too.)”

“You have thirty seconds before a full reset of security clearance,” Zoog cheerfully said. “No rush.”

“Wait! I remember. It’s…er…”

“Would you like a hint question? Too bad, you can’t have one. Twenty seconds and ticking.”

“It’s ‘Mr Bobo’s Big Adventure’,” Edwin said, grinding his teeth. “And we are done, yes?”

“Almost. Just the randomized personal question left. Master Dekaras insisted on heightened security levels while he is away. Ahem. What was Edwin Odesseiron told to repeat on the evening of his sixth birthday?”

Edwin sighed. “Umbrellas don’t fly without the proper thaumaturgical preparations”, He said, glaring daggers at Zoog. “100 times, I might add. (Remind me why I was so eager to rescue him again?)”

“Why, if it isn’t young Master Edwin! Welcome home young Master, welcome home!”

The giant gate swung open without a single creak or clang, as noiselessly as a sliding shadow. Edwin hurriedly stepped inside, with Rini and Imoen trailing after him. The garden they found themselves in was vast, Rini could tell that much even if it was quite dark by now. Heavy branches above would provide shade against the sun, white flowers trembled as she walked past, opening glittering petals radiating a pale light, and somewhere in the distance she could hear the sound of tinkling water. _Wow. It’s nearly the size of Candlekeep. Just look at that._ A vast building loomed before her, a black shape against the night sky. All the many windows were dark and silent, watching impassively between soaring columns reaching towards a glittering roof. 

“We’ll have a quick look around,” Edwin said in a quiet voice as he followed the perfectly straight and neatly raked gravel path towards the main entrance. “Even if Mother isn’t here, she may have left word.” He stepped up to the towering double doors, where there was a perfectly regular door knocker, and didn’t knock on it. Instead he lightly tapped the doorpost in a rhythmical pattern and waited until a soft click and a whirring noise sounded from behind the door before proceeding to unlock the door with a complex looking key he fished out from a hidden pocket. “Very good,” He said. “And now, since it is night and the extra security systems will be turned on…” He took a step to the left and tapped the other doorpost as well, once again hitting what seemed to be entirely ordinary spots. “And three up, five down…there.” There was another click and a faintly grinding noise from behind the door. “We can enter now.”

“What would have happened if we’d entered sooner?” Imoen asked as he pulled the door open. 

“The servants would have been very put out about the extra cleaning required, I’m sure. Now then. Lights!” Edwin made a brief gesture, and Rini could feel a quick surge of magic, one which gave her the impression of an ingrained, commonplace trigger spell. Then she was blinking as the room she was standing in was flooded with a warm, welcoming light as candles in the sconces along the walls flared to life. And what a room it was! It was a vast marble hall, dominated by a sweeping double staircase, with railings so wide she felt an immediate and irresistible urge to slide down them. On either side of the staircase there stood a life-size statue of a Red Wizard – presumably Odesseiron ancestors. They were glancing at the main entrance, offering a haughty look to any who might enter. The ceiling far above them was entirely covered with a beautiful painting portraying a flock of dragons soaring against a sky filled with dark thunderclouds. They looked so lifelike that she half expected to feel the heat of the fire at any moment, or to hear the crash of thunder. Doorways led off into several directions, hiding who knew what wonders behind them. 

“So…where do we go?” Rini whispered. It was entirely quiet, apart from the click of their feet against the shining white marble floor. “Upstairs? Downstairs?”

“Ah, yes, let me think. I believe the best course of action would be to…”

“Edwin Mordred Alexander Odesseiron! What in the world do you think you are doing, creeping around the house in the middle of the night like this in the company of strangers, long past your bedtime?! Why, if you hadn’t spoken right now, I might have mistook you for an intruder, and melted the flesh clear off your bones, and then where would we have been? Well, what have you got to say for yourself?”

Edwin slowly turned around; his face suddenly very pale. “M-Mother? Is that you?”


	12. Lady of the Manor

**Throne Of Cards 12 – Lady of the Manor**

_When a knotty problem has you really stumped, sometimes all you really need is somebody else with a fresh perspective and a vast capacity for violence._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“No, the Ghost of Solstice Past, who else? Of course it’s me.” The woman who was standing at the top of the stairs was beautiful, there was no doubt about that. Zaerini seized the opportunity to watch her closely while she was concentrating on Edwin, for she didn’t doubt that she herself would eventually be the object of that formidable attention. Elvira Odesseiron was beautiful, yes, with her flowing dark hair and her smooth skin, her flashing dark eyes and red lips. She might have been past her youth, but somehow that didn’t seem to matter all. She was wearing a white robe intricately embroidered with silver thread, and her hair was tousled as if she’d just arisen from her bed. It didn’t break her composure at all, in fact she looked like a proud queen about to order an offensive subject’s decapitation. Slightly behind her, Rini could hear a tiny, sad sigh and she reached out to give Imoen’s hand a reassuring squeeze. 

_I thought she was over that crush of hers. I’m pretty sure she is, but even so, I think she’d have felt better about meeting some ugly hag._

“Don’t just stand there, darling,” Elvira said, her face suddenly lighting up with a warm smile and her eyes softening as she descended the stairs, robe trailing after her. “I’ve missed you terribly. Come give your mother a hug, won’t you?” 

Edwin did so, clutching her tightly to him, and Rini was startled to see that the other woman was actually fairly short, and not at all ten feet tall as that first impression had suggested. Mother and son held each other close for a moment, and then Elvira took a step back to beam up at Edwin. “You really must improve your routine when it comes to writing letters, Edwin dear,” She said. “You’ve been gone for far too long, and if it hadn’t been for Vadrak keeping tabs on you I’d barely have had any news and most of it worrying.” She blinked. “Where is he, come to that? Don’t tell me he went out again on your first night home, or I’ll give him a talking to that will blister the back of his skull.” She stiffened momentarily. “And if you are about to tell me that he didn’t show you a certain very important letter I sent him and explain certain very important things to you, I will do worse than blisters. That man, sometimes I think he…” 

“No, Mother,” Edwin hurried to say. “That is to say, yes, he did, but….should we speak of this here? The servants….”

“All out,” Elvira said with a quick dismissive gesture. “It’s the Festival of Floating Zombies tonight, didn’t you see the lanterns in the streets on your way here? I gave them all the night off, we’re alone in the house.”

“And why did Zoog say you weren’t at home? I had to spend ages at the gate!”

“I told him to say I was not at home, Edwin, I was busy working and didn’t want to be disturbed. He was only doing his job, dear, and I can’t help but notice that you still haven’t told me where your Father is. I’m sure he’s not that easy to accidentally misplace, so there is something you’re trying to avoid telling me.” Her face had gone even paler than before, and there was a tense strain around her eyes. “Also, you haven’t introduced me to your friends. I’m sure we raised you to have better manners than that.” 

“Of course, Mother,” Edwin said with a slightly nervous nod. He took Zaerini’s hand in his own, and she thought his fingers felt rather colder than normal. “This is the lady Zaerini of Candlekeep, a lady of extraordinary wit and grace, and...”

“And a Child of Bhaal,” Rini said, looking the other woman straight in the eye. “Might as well get it out in the open. But not to worry, I haven’t turned into a monster and tried to savage him for quite some time now.”

“Ah…yes,” Edwin said, then cleared his throat. “In fact, she has saved my life. More than once.”

“It goes both ways, Eddie,” Rini said, still not taking her eyes off Elvira. The other woman was still looking at her steadfastly, betraying nothing. “And I’d do it again if I had to. I really only do the savage monster thing if somebody tries to hurt you, you know that. Or keep us apart.”

“Hellkitten!” Edwin hissed. “I was about to explain…”

“This way saves time, Dread Wizard. Also it leaves less room to complicate things.” 

“Er, hi,” Imoen said from behind Zaerini’s back. She gave Elvira a tentative little wave. “My name’s Imoen. I’m…just a friend. Yup. That’s me. Just a friend.” 

“I see,” Elvira said in a very level voice. Was there a slight twitch at the corner of her mouth just then? “We obviously have a great many things to discuss, and it won’t do to do it right here in the hall. Let me see…yes, the Small Yellow Parlor will do. Come along, Edwin dear, and bring your…friends.” She swept off up the stairs, not pausing to check if they followed. 

Zaerini’s first impressions of the Odesseiron Mansion were rather blurred, for as she trailed along after Elvira all she could think about was that she hadn’t memorized Protection From Fire that day. _But if she meant to blow me up she probably would have tried it already. Wouldn’t she? Gods, I hope I haven’t ruined everything._

_Nonsense, Kitten_ , Softpaws answered her. The black cat was slinking along close by her heels, and her mental voice sounded rather pleased. _She likes you, I think._

_You think?_

_She hasn’t challenged you to a fight, has she? Oooh, I wonder where that corridor goes…_

_Softy, don’t you wander off now! It could be dangerous._

_Pfft. But as you wish, Kitten._

After passing through several corridors which seemed positively littered with precious wood paneling and imposing portraits of Odesseiron ancestors, they finally reached their destination. The Small Yellow Parlor was large enough that it could easily have fitted Rini’s Candlekeep bedroom into it, three times over. There were a great many little side tables with precious china ornaments, an enormous mirror hung above the ornate fireplace and the drapes hanging in front of the tall windows were stiff with gold. The sofa which Elvira directed the three travelers to sit upon was golden as well, and very stiff and high-backed. 

“So,” Elvira said, and the single word fell like a sledgehammer against an unprotected skull. “Here we are. And now, Edwin, you will tell me where. He. Is.” 

“I…I don’t know, Mother,” Edwin said in a hoarse whisper. “I’m so very sorry. I wish I didn’t have to tell you this, truly I do. He’s…lost.” He proceeded to launch into his tale, having to pause now and then to clear his throat. When he had finished, Elvira sat in silence for a moment, her hands neatly folded in her lap. 

“I see,” She said. “So, they have come back for him, after all this time.”

“It seems likely,” Edwin admitted. “But we do not know for certain, not yet.”

“Then you must find out.”

“Of course, Mother.”

“And then, dear?”

“And then,” Edwin said, “The people responsible will pay for their actions, many times over.”

“That’s my boy. Let me see your amulet, please.”

Edwin silently pulled it out of his robe and without taking it off held it out in his hand. Elvira reached out to touch it, her fingers gently stroking the smooth, dark surface, her eyes intent on the tiny flicker of fire in the depths. “Yes,” She said, not taking her eyes off it. “Still alive.” She touched the tips of her fingers to her lips, and then gave the amulet a final brief caress before letting go. “You must all be tired,” She said, standing. “You must stay the night, and we will speak further in the morning. Edwin, do show the girls to our best guestrooms. Yes, I realize you have other arrangements on the road, but a lady deserves her comforts, and your own rooms won’t have the proper amenities, so don’t argue with me please. You can always visit as you please, after all. Now shoo, off with you.” 

Almost before she knew it, Rini found herself standing outside a closed door with Imoen and Edwin, trying to make sense of what had just happened. It hadn’t been what she’d expected, not at all. 

“Come,” Edwin hurriedly said, hooking his arms under hers and Imoen’s to lead them away down the corridor. “It is really up to you, my Hellkitten. The guest rooms are exquisite of course, but my own quarters are those of the heir of the house, so there is plenty of space (And how I would love to fit her into that space.) Mother won’t mind, I think. She…she has other things on her mind, after all.”

Just as he said that there was a loud explosion from inside The Small Yellow Parlor, followed by the sound of broken glass and china. The door shook slightly on its hinges, and there was the acrid smell of smoke. It was made all the more horrible by the fact that there was no scream of rage, no sound of sobs. A second explosion followed the first one, and the door buckled slightly outwards. 

“Is she all right?” Imoen asked, her eyes very round. “Should we go back?”

“No! Father is the only one who can talk to her when she gets like this (And I think that’s at least partially because he’s so good at dodging.) She won’t want company just now, and whatever you do, don’t mention it tomorrow morning over breakfast.” 

In the end Zaerini did settle for the guestroom. While she’d have happily stayed with her lover, she thought it might be a good idea to follow the suggestion of her hostess. It seemed the polite thing to do, particularly given Elvira’s current mood, and it wasn’t a matter of earthshaking importance after all. _She mentioned ‘visits’. Did she mean that? I half thought she’d attack me on the spot when I stood up to her. Poor Eddie, he looked about ready to faint at that. I wonder how he’s doing right now._

She turned over in bed, her body sliding luxuriously against silk sheets. The bed was enormous, she could easily stretch out across it without any parts of her sticking out, and there were pillows enough to smother a regiment. Gauzy drapes hung from the canopy above her, making her feel as if she was on a soft cloud floating through a misty sky. And even so, she was having trouble sleeping. She sighed and reached out to pet Softpaws, who was curled up on the mountain of pillows, deeply asleep. _I guess I’m so used to sleeping next to Eddie now that it feels strange to be without him. Maybe I should…_

She startled as her thought was interrupted by a soft knock on the door, and her heart leapt wildly in her chest. _It’s him! Quick, how do I look? Ah, who cares._ She settled for teasing the worst tangles out of her red hair, using only her fingers, and then she quietly slid out of bed, not bothering to light the candle next to it. Gingerly navigating the room in the dark, she managed to avoid tripping over any number of thick carpets or delicate dressing screens, and finally reached the door. 

“Couldn’t keep away, huh?” She whispered, putting on her most inviting smile as she pulled the door open. Then she froze, suddenly feeling as if she’d been dipped into icy water. 

“Argh?” The zombie standing on the threshold politely said to her. It wasn’t as large a zombie as her old ‘friend’ Abduh, but it was still, or rather had been, a fairly large man. It wasn’t very rotted, and it smelled of spices and roses. _Is that for preservation? Stuffing maybe? I’m pretty sure zombies don’t wear cologne._ There was a fairly large scorch mark across its neck, and one of its eyes was missing, as if something sharp had punctured it. It was dressed in a smart set of red and black livery and it was holding out a silver tray on which lay a neatly folded and sealed piece of expensive looking thick and creamy white paper. “Argh?” It said again and held out the tray expectantly.

“Just…one second,” Rini feebly said. “Wait right there.” She hurried to shut the door, and then threw on the elegant blue dressing gown she’d found waiting in the bedroom. It was just a little too long for her, but it would do. _I don’t care if he’s undead, I’m not standing around in the buff talking to him._ “Right,” She said as she opened the door again. “Let’s see that.” She read the brief letter, and then frowned. “Now what? Ok, you…what’s your name?”

“Argh.”

“Argh it is. Lead on, Argh.” The zombie shuffled off along the corridor, and then down a narrow staircase she hadn’t noticed before. _This place is a maze. I wonder if I’ll ever learn to find my way around it?_ For a moment it occurred to her to wonder what Gorion would have thought of her following zombies around in a Thayvian house, and in the middle of the night at that. _But I’ve dealt with far, far worse than zombies since I last saw you, Gorion. I wonder what you’d think if you saw me now? I hope it wouldn’t be anything like what that horrible wraith said._

Down, down, and further down the zombie lead her, until she was sure she had to be more than one level underground. Finally, it stopped before a sturdy wooden door and looked at her expectantly. “This is it?”

“Argh.”

“Ok, thanks. Sorry, I don’t have a tip or anything. Do I just go in, or…”

“Do come inside, dear,” Elvira Odesseiron said from the suddenly open door. She nodded to the zombie. “You may go. I will call if I need you again tonight.” The zombie nodded and lurched away. “You know,” Elvira mused, “Sometimes I really think the undead are the ideal servants, at least once you have them properly trained.” She stood aside and beckoned for Rini to enter the room behind the door. “I found it extraordinarily difficult to get to sleep, for some reason,” The wizardess said as she shut the door. “So, I thought that I would send Argh to see if you were asleep, and if you weren’t, to invite you here for a little chat, just the two of us.”

“I wasn’t asleep,” Rini said, a little guardedly. She didn’t think the other woman would try to turn her into a toad, or to set fire to her, but she still remembered the sounds of a room being dismantled by what had sounded like an exploding sun. Elvira seemed perfectly calm by now though. She had changed out of that white robe she had worn before and was wearing a shabbier garment, a thick robe which had once been red but had been bleached by hard use until it was more of a greyish pink. It was stained with what looked like acid stains and burnmarks. Elvira herself had tied her hair back into a thick braid, and as composed as she was by now, Rini thought her eyes looked uncommonly red. 

“Smoke does leave some terrible traces, doesn’t it?” Elvira said with a firm toss of her head. “I swear my eyes are still burning from my little tantrum earlier. I had to get down here to work off some steam or I’d still be…agitated.”

“I can see why,” Rini said with a tentative smile. “You should have seen me when Eddie…well, he was badly hurt. Apparently, I scattered the entrails of a master vampire all over the ceiling. I don’t remember all the details.” 

“Did you really?” Elvira said, sounding genuinely interested. “You must tell me all about it later, my dear. But I forget my manners, please have a seat. No, not on that silver one, that one has a rather interesting curse on it. Here we are.” 

Rini sat down in the offered chair in front of the fireplace and inspected her surroundings. The room was rather long and narrow, with walls and floor of sturdy, rough stone and no windows. There were several bookshelves, a couple of stained and scarred worktables, several cauldrons and other paraphernalia for potion making, and at the other end of the room what seemed to be several practice targets. Currently, all of them were lacking their heads, and they were still smoking. 

“One does need a place to work in peace,” Elvira said. “And since it’s entirely soundproof, I thought it would also serve beautifully for our little talk. I hope Argh didn’t alarm you too much. I sometimes prefer to use the undead servants; they are so discreet.”

“Um, no, it’s fine. I’ve seen plenty of zombies before. Some friends of mine have a zombie butler, but yours seems more…practiced, I guess.”

“Well, I’ve had him for quite some time now.” Elvira smiled a slightly sad smile. “I made him when Vadrak and I were courting, and every time I see him, I’m reminded of those days. An early joint kill.”

“Oh…I see.” _I don’t know whether that’s more really sweet or really scary._

“Which brings me to the subject at hand,” Elvira said, tapping her fingers against the armrest of her chair. “You and Edwin are quite serious about each other, are you not?”

“Yes,” Rini firmly said, nodding. “Look, I know I’m not….I’m probably not whom you’d have expected him to choose, but I _am_ the one he chose, and he’s the one I chose. I love him, and he loves me. That’s it. I’m not backing down, no matter what you say or do, and that’s final.”

“Hmm,” Elvira said, her black brows knitting together in a frown. “Your final word, is that it?”

“Yes!”

“Excellent,” The older woman said, her dark eyes suddenly mischievous. “Well done, my dear.” 

“Eh?”

“Well, you didn’t think Vadrak would be quite as remiss as Edwin in communicating with me, did you? He did manage to give me a reasonably fair impression of you, and while I of course do value his opinion higher than anybody else’s I did need to form my own. You are exactly what I hoped for.”

“Me?”

“Of course. You are obviously powerful in your own right, even if you aren’t as focused on magic as Edwin is. But that is no objection, you will complete each other. You have intelligence, and your current lack of eloquence can be excused by my own rather direct manner – I do apologize for that, my dear, but I needed to be sure you had sufficient backbone. Edwin needs somebody whom he cannot simply run roughshod over, somebody who will be a match for him.” She sighed and her eyes went slightly misty. “He is much like me in that regard. Finally, he obviously loves you, and you him. I would never attempt to force him to be with somebody he didn’t love, and I have never seen him act like that over any girl before. Yes, I think you will do very nicely.”

“Assuming we don’t get ourselves killed.”

“Of course, but that is our way of life, my dear. I have confidence in you.” Elvira smiled, looking suddenly like a girl not much older than Rini herself. “Now, please do tell me all the gory details about this vampire you dismembered for the sake of my baby, and after that I have quite a lot of stories to tell _you_.”

-*-

Edwin had been surprised about how deeply he slept. He had expected to toss and turn for quite some time, as he had every night since the dreadful night in Suldanesselar when he had first felt the amulet around his neck go icy cold and seen its light flicker and fade. This night had been different, however. He had slipped into his own bed, with his own smooth and cool bed sheets, and his own pillows which were exactly soft enough. Then he had closed his eyes and known nothing until morning came.   
_Remarkable_ , he thought as he stretched and yawned. _I might almost think Mother had enspelled the bed._ That wasn’t the case however, he knew that it was a matter of being under the roof of his own home for the first time in what felt like an eternity. _I wish we didn’t have to leave so soon. But at least Mother is well, that’s one relief._ Another relief, and a vast one at that, was that his mother had seemed to approve of his lover. Of course his Hellkitten was the perfect woman for him, as lovely as she was bright, witty and charming, graceful and powerful, a goddess in the making… _No Edwin. Don’t think about that, not right now._ He shook his head briefly, trying to make the intruding bad thought go away and then set about his grooming. He had taken a long bath last night, complete with scented oils, so he settled for washing up quickly and then settled down in front of his mirror for a proper grooming session. Hair, beard, nails, all were given appropriate attention and eventually he was satisfied that he looked his best. _Ah, civilization’s little comforts, I will never take them for granted again, that I swear._ He went down for breakfast in a reasonably good mood, even whistling softly to himself. 

“Good morning, Edwin dear,” His mother brightly said as he entered the breakfast room, neatly dabbing her mouth with a thick napkin. “I see you slept well.”

“I sure did,” Zaerini said, giving him an appreciative grin over the piece of honeyed toast she was raising to her mouth. “Well, after your mother and I finished our little chat.”

“Chat?” Edwin suspiciously asked. “What chat? When? Where? And why wasn’t I invited?” _The acid is rising in my stomach again…but at least they both seem unharmed and on not hostile – possibly even friendly terms._

“Oh, you know. Girl stuff.” His lover’s eyes sparkled gold, and the sunlight streaming in through the tall windows made her red hair glow like fire. “We finished up with looking at some really interesting pictures.”

“Pictures? What pic…no. No, no, no. Mother, please tell me you didn’t.”

“I don’t understand what you have against your baby pictures, darling. You were a perfectly adorable baby, and you know it.”

“Oh, you were,” Zaerini readily agreed. “I think I liked the one with you playing with your own toes on the tiger skin rug best.”

_Oh Gods, not That Picture. Well, at least they seem to be getting along. I can live with it._ He focused on the side table for the moment, turning his back while he placed some bread, fruit and eggs onto his plate so that the women couldn’t see his face. “I must ask you Mother, what exactly has been happening here? Was there any truth at all to that letter we received about you, or was it all a complete fabrication?”

“Well,” his Mother said, her voice now more serious, “you did receive the information about Galen’s disappearance, of course. I don’t know what he was thinking of, experimenting with magical portals like that. I warned him about it, but you know what he is like.”

“Entirely too well.”

“Yes, well, there still has been no sign of him anywhere in Thay, and no word from elsewhere either. I tried to determine where that last fatal portal led, but trying to scry it was a complete pandemonium, it was impossible to make any sense of it. I even called in a couple of my colleagues, but they had no more success than I did.” She thoughtfully tapped her perfectly manicured red nails against the pristine white tablecloth. “After a while I felt I had done everything I could reasonably be expected to do. I’ve put in an appeal for him to be declared legally dead, but of course these things take some time, and his brother has been fussing.” She made a quick grimace. “Homen doesn’t even get on well with Galen, he never has, but I believe he is using this as an opportunity to get back at me. I’ve been taking an interest in Surthay politics lately and he disapproves of my ‘interference’.”

“So, you weren’t accused of murder? That’s one relief, at least.”

“No dear, I wasn’t. Why, there wasn’t even a body, and everybody knows what Galen is like and how likely he is to get himself into trouble entirely without anybody’s interference. Homen would have had a hard time building a case against me even if I _had_ done away with my husband. No, it’s merely a case of him dragging things out with a lot of red tape. Now don’t you fret about it, I will have it sorted out eventually.” 

“I’m very glad to hear it.” Edwin sighed. “I only wish we’d known that letter was a fraud, but it seemed entirely plausible at the time.”

“It sure did,” Zaerini agreed. “You couldn’t have known. And I think if it had been anything else, Vadrak would have questioned it more, but whoever sent it knew exactly what it would take to make him rush off with less care than he’d normally take. It was like that when Bodhi had kidnapped you, Eddie. Neither one of us could really think straight.”

“What we need more than anything else right now is information,” Elvira decisively said. “Who has taken him, where, when, why and how. It is good you ran into Poppy. She is trustworthy, and she has aided us before. I will call in some favors, and of course set my own agents to work as well and try to find out what news is coming out of Rasheman. Once we have a little more to go on, I will perform a scrying of my own.”

“But Mother, we tried that several times, and with the most skilled diviners we could find.”

“They weren’t me,” She said, compressing her lips. “They didn’t have my own…personal interest. They also didn’t have access to certain personal items of Vadrak’s. Surely you know that such things always make a scrying infinitely easier.”

“No Mother, because you never _wanted_ me to study Divination, remember?” 

“We had our good reasons,” She said with a slightly sad smile. “Anyway, I believe I will be able to help. Of course, it would be even better if you could bring me one of his abductors to question.”

Zaerini blinked. “But…wouldn’t they be either escaped or dead by now?”

“Yes,” Elvira said, her smile now slightly smug. “But for me, death is no objection, and I dare say Vadrak left a few bodies lying about. Bring me some bones, my dear, and I won’t just make them talk, I will make them sing.” 

Edwin spent the next couple of hours in a very agreeable manner, showing his lover around the mansion and its gardens. There wasn’t time enough for the full tour of course, so he settled for his favorite places, and she seemed suitably impressed. 

“It’s beautiful, of course,” She told him when they had paused in the small gazebo in the middle of the hedge maze. “I can see why you love it so much. But do you know what I like best?”

“The view from the sunroom? The trophy room? Perhaps the Parlor of Mirrors?”

“The best thing about it is that it’s where you are from, Eddie. It’s part of you.” She reached up to caress his cheek, and he felt his chest go warm and found himself smiling a goofy smile even as his brain seemed to melt into fluffy clouds. 

“I’ve wanted you to see it for quite some time. (And how I wish we’d never have to leave.) And with you present, it seems to me to be entirely perfect, the final jewel in its rightful place upon the crown.” 

She smiled warmly at him and he pulled her closer, fully intent upon seizing the moment and taking full advantage of it. However, just as their lips met there was a creaking crash and a loud growl from some distance away in the maze. 

“What was that?” Zaerini said and sat up straighter, her voice faintly alarmed. 

“Oh, merely the hedge animals. They always like to play with visitors. The spell is quite interesting really, they can only move when nobody is watching them, but when they do move, they’re fast. And you wouldn’t think something made entirely out of branches and leaves would enjoy eating meat, but…”

There was another growl, but this one ended with a sharp crack and a rustling whine. “No!” A high voice said from around the corner. “Bad boy, no nibbling! Hiya guys, did we interrupt something?”

Poppy rounded the corner, followed closely by Imoen. The pinkhaired girl looked a little pale, and there was a wild look in her eyes and a few leaves stuck in her hair. Poppy seemed just as cheerful as always.   
“I think Tyger-Tyger needs feeding,” Poppy remarked, flopping down on the grass in front of the gazebo and stretching her hairy feet out with a pleased sigh. “He looks a little peaky if you ask me, and he was slower than usual. And Growler’s leaves look a little brown.”

“I’ll see to it,” Edwin promised. “Auntie Poppy, do you have any news? Did you find out anything? Anything at all that can help?”

“Immy?” Zaerini said, hurrying to grasp her sister’s arm. “Are you ok?”

“Leaves…” Imoen said, her eyelid twitching. “All those leaves…”

“She’ll be fine,” Poppy said with a reassuring smile. “I guess I should probably have warned her that Bouncy loves to pounce. Anyway, yes, I did find some stuff out!”

_At last! Finally some progress!_ Hope leapt within Edwin’s chest, mingled with the sharp anxiety that had festered for so long. He leaned forward, trying to keep his hands still in his lap so they wouldn’t tremble too obviously. “Yes?” He said, barely noticing that it came out as more of a squeak. 

“Well,” Poppy said, “First of all I sat down and thought about which route would be most likely for Dekkie to take from Athkatla.” She unfolded a large map and spread it out on the neatly cropped emerald green grass surrounding the gazebo. “Here we are, Athkatla. Athkatla is west and a bit south of Thay, see? And so, I knew he’d have to cross the Sea of Fallen Stars at some point. We know he didn’t reach Pyarados, because there’s no way there’d be no word on the street about it. Besides, he couldn’t have counted on finding a ship all the way to Pyarados from whichever port he set out from. But, there’s one city in Thay which any commercial port will sail to, and it’s conveniently on the way. From there he could either catch a coastal vessel or go by land.”

Edwin leaned closer in, focusing on the map as he thought this through. “Ah. Bezantur?”

“Got it in one, Eddie-kins!” Poppy beamed. “You’re such a clever boy.Yep, Bezantur.” She turned to Zaerini and Imoen. “It’s a huge city, the largest trade center in all of Thay. And it’s right there on the south coast, see? Very handy for somebody traveling from Amn and wanting to go further east to Pyarados.”

“Also,” Edwin said with a feeling of sinking stones in his stomach, “It’s swarmed with travelers, thieves, diplomats and spies.”

“Much the same thing really,” Poppy agreed. “And with so many people coming and going…”

“…even people from Rasheman might manage to slip past attention, am I right?” Imoen suggested. 

“’Fraid so,” Poppy said with a shake of her head. “It seemed likely, but I didn’t want to take things for granted just in case I was wrong. Luckily, we know exactly when Dekkie disappeared, thanks to that amulet, and we know he’d never go down without a fight. So, I talked to people and had them talk to other people until I finally found some assassins who’d been in Bezantur at the right time, visiting the Temple of Mask.”

“And?” Edwin asked, feeling horrible hope digging its sharp claws into his heart. 

“And they’d heard about some great big ruckus down at the docks at exactly the right time. Spells flying, a few houses set on fire, everybody running for cover. Once the dust settled and the neighbors dared show their faces again, the people who’d been fighting were all gone, except for the dead ones and there were quite a few of those, women and men both. And here’s the kicker, the men all had tattoos. Tattoos of a kind you don’t usually see in Thay.”

“The lodge tattoos of Rasheman berserkers?” Zaerini asked, her eyes alert and a slight smile on her lips. 

“Absolutely-dutely!” Poppy smiled back. “I think we’ve got it. Now, can Auntie Poppy have a hug for thanks? I haven’t had enough hugs lately, and you wouldn’t want me to go all pale and droopy for lack of hugs, would you?”

Edwin happily swept her up in a fierce hug without a single objection and held her tight. “Thank you, Aunt Poppy, I can never repay you for this,” He said, every word coming from the bottom of his heart. 

“Pfft,” Poppy said. “That’s what friends are for. Now, how about you guys set off to Bezantur and snoop around a bit, and I’ll stick around here and help your Ma with the snooping she is doing. I talked to her on my way here, it’s all set up. Then when you get back, we’ll know more, and we’ll be bound to figure out where they’ve taken Dekkie.” She drew away slightly and patted him on the cheek. “And then we rescue my Best Friend, and everything will be ok.”

Edwin couldn’t help but smile in return. There was something so very infectious about Poppy’s seemingly endless energy and optimism, and it managed to wash at least some of his own doubts and fears away, at least for the moment. “Is that a promise?” He asked. 

Poppy solemnly held out her hand, the smallest finger stretched out. “Pinkie-promise. And pinkie-promises can’t be broken.” 

“Well,” Edwin said, almost laughing himself as he held out his own finger in return. “I suppose that settles that.”


	13. Into Darkness

**Throne Of Cards 13 – Into Darkness**

_With its charming architecture, its clear and wholesome air and its friendly and welcoming citizens, Bezantur offers something for everyone. Stop by Bezantur, immerse yourself in its magic, and not merely you but your friends and family are bound to get a treasured memory for life._

_Excerpt from ‘The Stroller’s Guide To Thay’_

“Let’s go over it one more time, just in case,” Zaerini said, pushing a stray lock of hair back behind her pointed ear. “If we run into any Red Wizards, what don’t we do?”

Minsc hesitantly raised a huge hand into the air. “Tear their foul heads off their necks with one single Goodly Yank and bounce them down the street?”

“Right! And?”

“Minsc will keep Boo safely tucked away, so his courageous hamster heart will not be too dismayed from unbearable restraint. Unless he’s needed to protect Minsc’s Witch, of course.”

“Fair enough. Ok Minsc, let me just put your makeup on and you’ll be done.”

The big man heaved an equally big sigh. “Minsc and Boo have grave doubts about this part of the plan, Little Rini.”

“Oh, come on, you know you’ve got to hide that berserker tattoo if you want to come. And if you keep a hood up or a visor down all the time it’ll seem awfully suspicious. We talked about this already.”

“I still don’t see why you won’t consider my brilliant plan,” Sarevok huffily interjected. “I already played the part of a humble monk once before; with my guidance it would be no great trouble to coach your addleheaded companion in that part.”

“Yes, thank you Koveras, objection noted. Now if we can just…”

“You have to BE the monk. BREATHE the monk. FEEL the monk…”

“Smell the monk?” Imoen smirked. “Unless you were planning to ditch your armor, which I wouldn’t really recommend, Big Bro. Also, humble monks usually don’t carry huge big whopping swords.” 

“You can pretend to be a monk another time, Sarevok,” Rini said, trying very hard not to sound as if she wanted to slam heads together. _Being the voice of reason sucks. It really does. But somebody’s got to do it, I guess._ She looked at Viconia, and the priestess met her gaze, her eyes sparkling with amusement as if she could tell exactly what the half-elf was thinking. _Great_. “Minsc, it’s only greasepaint, it’s not as if we’re prettying you up with lipstick and rouge.”

“Or even a rogue,” Imoen chuckled. “Get it? Rouge for a…”

“Yeah Immy, I get it. Minsc, hold still please. Unless you want me to do an illusion spell instead, but I can’t promise it won’t suddenly wear off.”

Finally, finally, they were ready to leave, and Zaerini went over to far side of the campfire where Edwin was standing alone, staring into the shifting shadows surrounding this small protected part of the pocketplane. “Hey,” She quietly said, slipping her hand into his. “You ready?”

“No,” He quietly admitted. “I mean…yes. Of course I am. But I fear what we will learn. (Illogical and contradictory, how very ridiculous.)”

“I know. Just remember, once we know more, we’ll finally be able to do something about this mess. And we will. Even if it means we _all_ have to dress up as Humble Monks to make a rescue plan.”

Edwin’s smile was a bit weak, but it was a smile, and she held onto his hand as the rest of the group approached. Her control over the pocketplane had grown stronger, and she thought she knew what she was doing now. She hoped she knew what she was doing. Bezantur. She visualized the map Poppy had shown them, focusing on one particular dot on that map, and pouring all of her need into it. 

-*-

“Do you mind?! The city has designated portal platforms for a reason, you know.” 

“Um…sorry,” Rini hastened to say, as a long finger stained with ink and what was probably butter nearly nudged her nose. There were five teenaged wizards in the room, all of them too young to be proper Red Wizards and all of them looking more than a little disgruntled. There were three girls and two boys, and they all looked rather hollow-eyed as if they hadn’t been getting enough sleep lately. All of them were clutching thick stacks of paper covered with notes and calculations, and even more papers had been scattered across the floor. This, she thought, may possibly have been related to the fact that she and her friends seemed to have landed right on top of the table the wizards had been sitting around, and it had immediately cracked and splintered under their weight. “Really. We’re all terribly sorry.” There were spilled drinks on the floor, and a couple of overturned snack bowls. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Softpaws starting to lap up a puddle of fizzy brown drink, and Insufferable stuffing his cheeks so full of nuts he looked like a hamster. 

“Oh, did you all hear that?” One of the girls said, her voice dripping acid. “They’re sorry. That really warms my heart ever so much.” She held up a dripping scroll covered with the brown and sticky drink. “Look at this! Do you have any idea how long I spent building my rogue, and now look at him! Can you fix that?”

“Er…well…”

“I can dry it out!” Said the smaller girl sitting next to the first one. Her fingertips started glowing a dark red and little whirls of smoke drifted lazily up from the scroll. “And hey, it got us out of the bind with the Crawling Horrors before we had to set everything on fire again.” 

“I still say that plan should have worked better…”

Edwin nodded sagely. “Indeed, very few predicaments are not resolvable by a properly aimed fireball. I have always found it thus myself. And now, children, if you will excuse us…”

“Children?” Said the third girl mildly, pushing her slipping glasses up her nose. “What an interesting idea. What should we do about that?”

“Mass Intrusive Tentacles?” Suggested the first, dark-haired boy. “Extra wriggly. Saves the world, every time.”

“And there is that compost heap in the backyard. Did I ever tell you what I can make from compost?” 

The other, lighter-haired boy who was sitting at the head of what had once been a table sighed and gave the torn piece of parchment he was holding a mournful look. Viconia’s boot had caught on it as she landed on the table and it had been torn clear in two. What little there remained of it was covered in runes and smudged incantations. “My poor Dire-Owl….it was going to be my masterpiece. Now I have to do it all over again….”

“We’re very, very sorry,” Zaerini hurried to say. “And we really don’t want to fight you. Really.” 

“Not to worry, my Hellkitten,” Edwin said. “They are merely playing Wizard in The Dungeon, an excellent game of which I am, of course, a master, but still just a completely harmless game. (And I still call foul on the insertion of the enhanced pixies.)” He handed a purse to the closest girl, the one with the glasses and the unsettling smile. “Fair payment for the damage caused, I believe. And may I ask which edition of the game that is?” 

The girl looked inside and nodded. “It will do. And 8th edition of course. 9th is a pile of dung. Can you believe they took out Duck-Bunnies? It’s a travesty!” 

“Before we leave,” Zaerini said, “Can you tell us if this in fact the city of Bezantur? And if it is, can you tell us the way to the docks?” 

“It is,” Said the first girl, gently blowing on her dripping scroll to dry it out. It seemed to be hissing quietly in return. “Follow this street downhill to the Augury Square, and then take Meddlesome Road down to the docks. You’ll be able to see them soon enough.” She grinned. “Not to mention smell them.”

“Thanks,” Rini said, motioning for her friends to follow her as she scooped up Softpaws into her arms. The cat was feeling rather sticky. “And good luck with the game.” 

The five young wizards simply nodded in return, and then put their heads together, muttering as they started sorting out their scattered papers. “So,” Rini said as she stepped into the street. “I guess we just go this…” She broke off. There was a sound coming from the house she had just left, a sound of enormous rustling wings, wings too large to belong to anything that could possibly fit inside a house that size. It was followed by the scraping of claws against wood, and then a final, triumphant call. “HOOT HOOT!”

“Er, guys?” Imoen said. “I think maybe we’d better leave now. Before the tentacles come around.” 

“Just a game, you said,” Rini panted as she dragged Edwin down the street. “Completely harmless, you said!”

“Well,” He admitted. “8th edition can be a little volatile if you use the Enhanced Enchantment manual.” 

“Will they be alright?” Imoen asked, looking back at the house. 

“Oh yes. Probably. I’m almost certain I heard them mentioning explosive runes, and that should…”

There was a loud ‘BOOM’ and then a cloud of ragged, grey feathers started raining from the sky. 

“I guess that answers that question,” Viconia said, blinking. “Now, shall we get on with this mission of ours?”

“Right,” Rini said. “To the docks. It’s snooping time.” 

-*-

The docks of Bezantur turned out to be vast, as large as a medium sized town. A veritable forest of masts and sails stood out against a clear blue sky, and the piers led all the way around the harbor bay in a loose semicircle, too many to count. Wooden shacks lined the waterfront, holding everything from fishing gear to flophouses it seemed, and larger buildings gradually crawled up the streets towards the city proper. The air was filled with noise, the steady creak of wood and the rhythmical sound of the waves, screaming seagulls fighting over scraps, and the shouts of men loading and unloading ships with enough valuable goods to support an army. Rini inhaled deeply, trying to make the smells of saltwater and spices take precedence over those of refuse bobbing in the water. “So,” She said. “Where should we start?”

“Auntie Poppy said that the battle she’d heard of took place in Sector 12,” Edwin said, consulting a stack of notes carefully written out in his elegant and somewhat elaborate handwriting. “It should be…let me see…approximately eight or nine streets in that direction.” He waved his hand vaguely in the air. 

“You mean…approximately underneath that huge green cloud, shaped like a skull?” Imoen asked. 

“Why yes, it…” The wizard broke off, staring at the sky. “Oh, lovely,” He said with a sour look on his face. “It’s a warning sign against magical fallout damage. Once again Lady Luck releases a pile of steaming excrement on top of my best shoes.”

“I’m fairly sure you should avoid speaking about Tymora like that, Eddie,” Rini said. “One angry god is bad enough, don’t you think?”

Edwin sighed. “Let’s just go. (The sooner we hear the bad news, the sooner I make somebody pay for them.)”

The bad news, as it happened, turned out to be that an entire block simply was not there anymore. All the buildings had been reduced to rubble, and there was a thick, glowing miasma hanging in the air, drifting in and out of broken windows and between the scorched ruins of walls. Around the wreckage there was a clear dome giving off faint golden sparks. Rini gently tapped it with her finger. It felt like glass, smooth and slick, but the magical currents making her skin tingle told her that it was entirely ethereal. Inside the dome, she could see scattered groups of Red Wizards, wearing robes which covered every inch of skin, along with helmets with thick black goggles and something across their mouth which looked like mandibles. They seemed to be moving unnaturally slowly, like people under water. 

“Those robes are for protection against magical contamination,” Edwin murmured. “I’ve only seen them once before.”

“We seem to have a problem,” Viconia said. “We need to get inside this thing, but the dome seems entirely continuous.” 

Sarevok nodded. “I dare say it would prevail even against my own force of arms,” He said. “Clearly we will need to employ guile.”

“Can we just ask them to let us in?” Rini asked. “They’re Red Wizards after all, and so are you. If you told them…”

Edwin shook his head. “No,” He said in a low voice. “We cannot tell them the truth of what we are looking for. Any mention of Rasheman would make them extremely suspicious, and they would consider us potential conspirators, out for our own gains.”

“Well we are, kind of. But I get what you mean.” Rini looked at the wizards walking back and forth. “Fine. They may not want to let us in, but sooner or later they’ll have to come out. We’ll just have to wait a little while.” She turned to her brother. “So, Sarevok? How good are you at being a Humble Rogue?”

It was perhaps an hour later when a trio of Red Wizards, fully suited up, entered the magical dome. Thick helmets covered their faces, and each one had a small platinum amulet around his or her throat which gave a brief blue flash to let them inside. They looked much like the other wizards working inside the contaminated area, apart from the fact that one of them was unusually large and muscular for a wizard, his robes dangerously stretched across his broad torso. 

“Are you sure about this?” Edwin hissed into Rini’s ear as Minsc trailed along after them, smiling good-naturedly. 

“He has to come along,” She whispered back. “For two reasons. First of all, if he’s with me, he’ll focus on my safety, and there’ll be less risk of him getting into trouble out in the city. Second, we’re looking for clues about people from Rasheman, and he’s the only one among us who’s ever been there.”

“Well you’d better hope the protective spells on these robes hold even when too small, that’s all I’m saying. There’s all sorts of magical fallout in here, and we don’t want him to contract something that will make him even more erratic.”

Rini nodded. “Minsc,” She quietly said. “You’d better stick close to us, ok? And let me know if anything seems to be wrong.” She scraped some bubbling blue slime off her boot. It hissed and crawled away from her. “Well, more wrong than any of the rest of it.”

“Yes, Little Rini. Boo says this whole place is wrong, there was much strong magic done here, and much death. It is still here. The deaths and the magic together did something very bad.”

Rini looked at the broken and burnt shells of houses all around her, at the creeping shadows slinking between the hollow walls and she listened to the quiet whispers which she couldn’t quite make out. “I hear you,” She said. There were no Red Wizards close by, or in fact in sight at all. Well it was getting dark, maybe they were going home for the night. “Where is it strongest?” _I wish we could have brought the others. But three suits is all we’ve got, and we couldn’t risk them going in without._

“That way,” Minsc promptly said, pointing. The mist was thickest in that direction, a nearly impenetrable wall, but she could make out a fairly tall building, its walls miraculously intact but all its windows blown out. As they walked closer, thick and clammy tendrils of mist crawled around her legs, tugging with icy fingers at the hem of her ‘borrowed’ wizard robe. The whispers within the mist were getting stronger. She could nearly make out what they were saying now. 

_Sisters….sisters…the web…contain…_

She shuddered as she stepped inside the dark building. The air in here was positively icy, if not for the mask she was wearing she was sure she’d be seeing little puffs of mist as she breathed. It was a large room she found herself in, very dark. The floor was littered with burnt…things. Crates, perhaps? It was impossible to tell. It smelled strongly of acrid smoke, a cold, dead smell. 

“I believe this was a warehouse,” Edwin quietly said. “I can easily imagine Father seeking it out when under attack, he’d be able to hide in here to pick them off one by one.”

_Until they caught up with him_ , Rini thought, and she felt that icy chill along her back again. Was it growing even darker in here? She could barely even see the others now, and the door seemed so far away, at the end of a long tunnel. There was a chittering noise across the damp stone floor, and her nose wrinkled with distaste when she saw the pale and glistening bugs spilling forth from a crack in the wall. Bugs? No. Eyeballs, a flood of eyeballs on swiftly moving legs, moist and staring blankly. 

“Um, guys?” She said. “I think something is…”

The distant door slammed shut, and she was drowning in darkness.

“Eddie? Minsc?” Zaerini waited, holding her breath for a reply. There was none. Her companions had been right next to her as the darkness fell, but now they were nowhere to be seen. _Softy?_ She waited a heartbeat, two, three, for the familiar’s touch against her mind, but there was only silence. She’d asked Softpaws to remain outside the area of magical contamination, for fear that she’d get hurt. Still, it should have been possible to reach the cat through the familiar link. That it wasn’t…well, that wasn’t a reassuring sign. 

_I’ll have to find them. That’s all._

First, she’d have to get her bearings. Magelight flared from her fingertips, conjuring a steady orange flame which floated in the air over her shoulder. Now she could see a little more, at least. She thought she was still inside the ruined warehouse, but it was…different. It wasn’t ruined anymore, for one thing. The walls were intact, and there were heavy crates and bales piled high to the ceiling. Speaking of the ceiling, it had previously been an open hole, gaping mindlessly at the night sky. Now it was whole, and there were windows out there, letting in pale little slivers of starlight. 

_Did I go back in time, somehow? Or is it all just an illusion?_

She carefully tapped her fingers against one of the crates. It felt solid enough, down to the nasty little splinter which promptly lodged itself in her fingertip. Cursing quietly, she managed to get it out, and then licked the blood off her finger. _No illusion, then. Or at least not a simple one._ She kept walking, moving as silently as she knew how. Even so, she winced every time her feet inadvertently scraped across the rough floor, and the sound of her breathing seemed as loud as a storm in the oppressive silence which surrounded her. 

_Ok, this isn’t very nice. But it could be worse. I could…_

Somewhere behind her, there was a noise. A small, quiet noise, as of somebody slowly exhaling. If it hadn’t been for her better-than-human hearing, she didn’t think she’d have heard it at all. 

_…be stalked._

Should she turn around, and confront whatever was behind her, or continue onwards? She knew she was pretty powerful now, she had weapons and magic at her disposal, not to mention the Slayer if things went really bad. Even so, she hesitated. She was pretty powerful, yes, but there were still things she’d have a hard time defending herself against, such as those horrible wraiths in the Forest of Mir. No, she’d continue onwards for now, and hopefully find the others before whatever it was found her. Feeling her way along the crates, she walked along for another couple of minutes. She had just begun to relax slightly when her fingers touched something wet and sticky. Startled, she raised them to her face. They were covered with something dark, almost black, and there was a wet smear on her sleeve as well, a little gelatinous lump which she scraped off with a grimace of disgust. More dark wetness clung to the crate she had touched, had run down along it to form a pool on the floor, a pool she was standing in. 

_Blood. A lot of it. But where’s the body?_

Then she turned the corner and wished her question hadn’t been answered. 

-*-

Edwin was, not for the first time in recent days, wishing that he’d studied Divination. True, it wasn’t as impressive as certain other schools of magic, and in combat it was of course entirely feeble compared to say Conjuration or Evocation, but right at this particular point in time, a seeking spell would have come in very handy. This place was a labyrinth, and the building seemed vast, far bigger on the inside than on the outside. 

_A dimensional shift of some sort, I wager. This would have been an interesting case study if I hadn’t happened to be right in the middle of it._ He kept walking, trying to tell himself that he was bound to run into the others any time now. He’d deemed it unwise to yell at the top of his lungs, but surely, they couldn’t be that far away. _Unless we’re all in dimensional pockets separate from each other_ , his treacherous mind told him. _And what if there is no way out? What if this space closes in upon itself, like a loop?_ No. He couldn’t afford to think like that. He had to focus, to keep to his purpose. Speaking of which…what would his Father have done in this place? Edwin tried to cling to that thought, to let it guide him through the darkness. _He wouldn’t keep running around blindly, for one thing. When under pressure, and when unable to simply slip away, he’d have found himself a spot which could be used for an ambush and he’d have waited there to pick some of them off before moving on._ He could almost hear Dekaras’ voice right now, next to his ear. 

_Never let your foe choose the battleground if you can help it, Edwin. You should always aim to be the one who picks the time, the place, and the method._

It was still good advice. And there was something in here with him, something hostile. He could hear the whispers on the edge of his mind, sense their presence in the crawling shadows. He couldn’t make out the words, not yet, but he knew them for the threat they were. 

_I will show them. I will show them all, and they will fear me._

-*-

Minsc felt no fear. Boo was with him. Boo would know what to do. 

-*-

The dead woman on the floor was staring sightlessly at the ceiling, her dark brown eyes glazed over and filmy. Her skin was pasty, a pale yellow which was utterly lifeless. 

_Not much left in her_ , Rini thought, feeling a little lightheaded. The woman was wearing a simple but well-made magerobe, pale blue with a fine white linen shirt under shorter sleeves. Its entire front was covered with blood, black and sticky, soaked all the way through. It wasn’t dripping anymore, but it was still moist, with even nastier thicker clots here and there. _No prize given for guessing the cause of death_ , Rini thought as she stared at the corpse. The woman’s head was lolling to one side, bent at an impossible angle. A second mouth, a lunatic’s bloody grin gaped wide beneath her chin, her throat slit with such force that her head was halfway severed. _Well, we wanted a corpse_ , the half-elf thought, fighting back a slightly hysterical giggle. _Only, I’m not sure this is really and actually real…_ Then she paused. What had she been thinking? Of course this was real, horrifically real. Something was definitely off, however. She couldn’t quite seem to remember where she was, or how she had got here. She’d been doing something…looking for something. It was important, she knew that, but it kept slipping away from her. And there had been others, friends, but who were they? She couldn’t remember that either. One thing was true beyond a doubt though. There was a monster somewhere in this labyrinth, and it was deadly. She paused, motionless, holding her breath. Was that a faint noise, somewhere in the deep shadows to her left? Yes. A gasp, and a gurgle. She could guess only too well what that meant. _Another corpse, or soon to be corpse. And I’d better move right now, or I could be next._ She set out as quickly as she dared, gingerly stepping across the corpse and moving off as quietly as she could. She couldn’t hear any footsteps behind her, no whisper of a breath, but deep down, in the icy pit of her stomach she knew that meant nothing. _Death walks softly._

-*-

There was a web around him, closing in. Edwin could almost see it in the air, bright red threads trembling and quivering, dripping fresh blood. The smallest movement, the smallest touch, and he’d set the entire web ablaze, and whatever fat and bloated spider lurked in the middle would know exactly where he was and head directly for him. _So, I will not play their game._

Who ‘they’ were, he did not know, but he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he couldn’t allow them to catch him. There had been something else before, companions, somebody dear to him, but right this moment he was alone and content to stay that way.   
_I have always worked best alone, with nobody to get in the way. Let them come, they will find me waiting._ The thought felt strangely remote, as if it wasn’t entirely his own. But that was nonsense, surely. Who else could it belong to? 

The wizard settled down on top of a pile of large crates, reaching almost all the way to the lofty ceiling. There were occasional rays of moonlight to avoid, but between those there were lovely patches of deepest shadow, offering safety and bliss. It seemed a long way down to the floor, and he blinked as he realized that he couldn’t remember climbing up here in the first place. He wasn’t even all that skilled at climbing, was he? No, that couldn’t be, that had to be wrong. At any rate, here he was, in the perfect place for an ambush. That was the important thing. That, and the whispers. 

The whispers were closing in, crawling along the strands of the web, scratching at his mind, trying to edge inside. _Renegade. Slayer. Monster._

Edwin smiled, his eyes cold and distant. _Hurry up, little girls. Let us dance._

-*-

Minsc walked through the shadows. He was not lost. Boo knew where to go. 

-*-

There was a faint, thumping sound up ahead. Zaerini carefully crept closer, wary of what she might find. Still, moving on felt better than staying put and waiting for the killer to come at her from behind. Thump. Scrape. Thump. Scrape. Closer and closer, and now she was turning the corner, peering around a tall stack of crates. A sharp breath escaped her, air whistling almost painfully into her lungs as she beheld the sight in front of her. 

This corpse hadn’t bled out, no. It was hanging by its neck from the rafters above, heavy boots bumping into the surrounding crates now and then as it swung gently back and forth. Thump. Scrape. Its face was a dark purple, its swollen tongue bitten almost clean through, its sightless eyes bulging from the head. It had been a muscular man in life, powerful and strong, and there was still a sword hanging from its belt. 

_When the monster caught up with him he didn’t even have the time to draw it._

Thump. Scrape. She stepped closer, closer. Did she know this man? She wasn’t sure. Everything was so blurry, everything but the sharp reality of the shadows, and the hidden monster in the shadows. Fascinated she stared at the dead face; tattoos almost invisible against the darkened skin. Thump. Scrape. Thump. Scrape. The corpse was still swinging. Too late, she realized what that had to mean. _No wind in here to make it move. If it’s still moving, then that means…somebody only just put it there. Put it there as a distraction._

The garrote snaked around her throat, and she was yanked backwards, struggling helplessly in a powerful grip, her fingers scrabbling in vain as her breath was cut off and her field of vision was filled with swirling stars. 

-*-

They were still coming, faster and faster. Edwin’s fingers danced through the motions as he wove his next spell, his tongue reciting the proper words even as his brain was already going through his next possible move. Faster. He had to be faster than them. A vaguely female face raced towards him, followed by another, and another. They were white as paper, smooth as eggs. There were no eyes, no noses, no ears, only too wide lipless mouths filled with razor-sharp fangs and long, cleft tongues dripping poison. 

_Poison tongues. Liars, all of them. They always lied, all of them did._ The sudden angry thought flashed through his mind like a rock dropped into water from far above and sank to the bottom. Not his thought, not exactly, but he didn’t have the time to worry about that or the way his vision had gone strangely double as if he were two people at once. Each hissing, screaming face was surrounded by impossibly long hair which flowed and floated as if underwater, confusing his aim. Each head was attached to a thick, red, pulsing tentacle, disappearing off into the distant shadows. There had to be a body in there somewhere, a single entity controlling them all, but it was out of sight and out of reach. All he could do was take the heads out, one by one and many together, and pray that it would be enough. All he had to do was to be faster than them, every time. Unfortunately, all they had to do was to be faster than him one time. Lightning arced from his fingertips, shriveling three screaming heads at once, making their white skin char and their hair blaze. 

“Ha!” Edwin hissed. “Take that, you witches. You’ll never…”

_Renegade. Slayer! MONSTER!_

Edwin faltered as he saw two new heads grow back from each severed tentacle. This was new, and it wasn’t reassuring. 

_There are too many of them._

That was another one of those oddly intruding thoughts from the other presence with him, a stab of sharp despair followed by the determination to go down fighting, to take as many with him as he possibly could. They were upon him now, grasping, choking, but strangely enough not biting. Why not biting? 

_Because they want me alive._

And at that realization, both Edwin and the other voice in his head had to choke back a scream.

-*-

Minsc was getting closer now. Boo told him so. 

-*-

Alive, against all odds, Zaerini fell to her knees, hands clasping her burning throat. She’d been sure she was done for this time, but the pain biting into her throat had simply…disappeared, along with the killer. Her breath was rasping, loud and desperate, as she turned around. No, there was nobody there, only the shadows. Where had the monster gone? Was it simply toying with her? Or was there something else at play here? She thought she could sense something else now, another presence, this one composed of many entities. _Sisters?_ Yes. That felt right, somehow. There were others, here with her, close by. All of them hunting the dangerous monster but being hunted by it at the same time. She could feel them all around her, bolstering her strength, a shimmering web running through her mind, connecting her to the others. There was safety in numbers, but she needed to find them in the physical world, not just through the spell or she’d still be an easy target.

She kept walking, pushing through the shadows. They seemed even deeper now, almost solid, black fluid running down the walls, crawling across the floor. There was the hint of hissing laughter at the edge of her mind, mocking her. _Try to run_ , the shadows said. _Try. You cannot escape me. Nobody can._

It was a wraith, she was sure of it, it had to be. A twisted monster, made up of shadows, delighting in blood and death. Her foot nudged something soft, another corpse, a tall woman with only a bloody socket left where her right eye had been. Something had pierced clean through her skull and straight into her brain. She looked…surprised. She’d never seen her death coming. Zaerini shuddered, hurrying on. She was moving on pure instinct now, with no idea where she was going, knowing only that she needed to get away, now. Desperately, she reached out, her mind seeking the welcoming web. 

_Sisters!_

_Be calm, sister_ , a soothing voice whispered from inside the web. _Do not be overcome by fear. The renegade is strong, yes, but there is but one of him, while we are many. Know it. Feel it!_

New courage filled her, flowing into her from the web, telling her what to do, where to go, what to think. 

“Renegade…Slayer…Monster…face me! Face the dead!” 

She turned a corner, and yes, there it was. The creature was all shadow, humanoid but with no proper features to make out, its form constantly flowing, changing, with tendrils of inky darkness creeping along its edges. It had its back to her; it was fighting already. Her sisters! Bravely fighting, that she might strike the fatal blow! Her heart swelled with pride and joy as she readied herself. A deep wellspring of magic was there for her, deeper than she alone could muster. The circle of sisters was supporting her, lending her their strength. The magic gathered, flowed through her. The creature turned, amber eyes burning, opening a snarling mouth. It lunged for her even as she struck. 

-*-

It was almost too late. Edwin struggled weakly within the grasp of the surrounding foes, refusing to give up, as hopeless as it all seemed. He’d managed to kill more than he’d thought possible, but he knew now, knew with the clarity born of despair that it was in vain. There were simply too many of them, their web too strong to escape. And here was a triumphant cry behind him, one of them come to gloat. Their leader, most likely. 

_That was a mistake, girl. You never ought to do that while your target is still alive, and only rarely afterwards._

A smile not his own twisted Edwin’s face as he turned around, the strangling tentacles slipping away as new, cold strength shot up through his spine, steadying him. He had magic still to spare, but no…that felt…wrong somehow. As if it wasn’t his, not anymore. Never mind. There were other options available. He reached for his belt. _Always, always keep a spare weapon. Preferably several._ This one was enchanted, and quite sharp. The hilt sat in the palm of his hand as if it was a part of him, needing no conscious guidance. His arm moved, so fast it blurred, and let the magical dagger fly, straight for the heart. 

-*-

Minsc had arrived, just as Boo had told him he would. He did what he had to do.


	14. Welcome To Rasheman

**Throne Of Cards 14 – Welcome To Rasheman**

_‘A Happy Land. A Loyal People.’_

_Excerpt from the Rasheman National Anthem_

Zaerini had never been kicked by a horse, but she rather thought it would feel something like this. Something large, and heavy, had struck her in the side, just as she was about to launch her spell, making it fizzle uselessly. She’d been taken completely by surprise, flung helplessly to the ground with her attacker on top of her, and she could barely breathe, much less fight back. Her entire right arm felt numb, when it wasn’t shot through with sparkling bursts of sharp pain. 

“Ow,” She groaned. “What…” She blinked, trying to see straight. It had been so dark until just now, but here was starlight, shining in through the broken and still smoking ceiling of the abandoned warehouse. Clear, and bright. Her thoughts were getting clearer as well, less…muddled. _The warehouse. Of course. We came to find out what had become of Vadrak._ It felt so long ago. _We got separated. And then…._  
Shadows, there had been shadows trailing her, stalking her. She’d been just about ready to strike back and counterattack. 

_Gods! Edwin!_

“Little Rini?” A familiar voice, a large hand gently patting her cheek. “Boo says it’s safe now.” She was carefully pulled into a sitting position, leaning against Minsc’s shoulder. It had been him who rammed into her, she could vaguely remember it now. She blinked, still feeling a bit woozy even as she desperately looked around, trying to spot…

“Eddie! Are you alright?”

“Urgh?” Edwin muttered from his spot on the ground below some large crates. 

“The Sometimes Evil Wizard will be well, Little Rini,” Minsc reassured her. “He fell down when Boo jumped onto him, but don’t worry, Minsc made Boo promise not to bite.”

“So much fur…” Edwin muttered. “And the staring round eyes…and it was screeching. In my face.” 

“Boo says there is bad magic here,” Minsc explained, carefully pulling a small but rather sharp knife out of his arm. He frowned, then drank a healing potion and nodded. “It made you not right in the head. Only Minsc and Boo made sense.”

“Um…ok….” Rini said, still struggling to breathe. “I sort of remember. I wasn’t myself, not really. I think I was seeing what one of the Witches saw, sort of. Is that what happened to you too, Eddie?”

“Yes,” Edwin said with a shudder. “Something like that.”

“Thank you, Minsc,” Zaerini said, giving the large man a heartfelt hug. “You saved us. If it hadn’t been for you….”

“Minsc was happy to help! Do we go exploring more now?”

“Yes.” The bard thought back, trying to remember what she had seen before. “And I think I know where to go. I saw her. If we’re lucky, she’ll still be there.” Backtracking through the warehouse, she walked at a steady pace, constantly monitoring her own thoughts, but for now she seemed fine, with no alien influence. _It was trying to make us kill each other, and it failed. Maybe that used up its power, for some time at least._

The shadows were gathering again, crawling along the ground like snakes, and a voice was whispering on the edge of her mind, beckoning her closer.

_Sister. Come._

_I’m not your sister. But yes, I will come._

And here it was, this dark patch in a corner of the warehouse. Her nostrils fluttered as she inhaled. The blood was old, dry, but still there, scattered drops against the wall, a crumbling stain on the ground. Mixed with the smell of blood, another, stronger smell, one you didn’t need her sharper senses to notice. 

“Phaugh!” Edwin exclaimed. “That stinks as badly as the unwashed armpits of a Lord of Hell. Careful, there could be disease.”

“She’s been dead awhile,” Rini replied, edging closer to the crumbled heap on the floor. “I wouldn’t expect her to smell like roses.” The corpse’s head was tilted back at an unnatural angle, the ground beneath it covered with old, dry blood. Its long hair was stuck in the pool of blood, a tangled dark nest. Sunken eyes, like moldy raisins. Dead flesh sliding off, bone just visible beneath, and the stench…this close it was overpowering. Zaerini coughed and covered her nose and mouth with her sleeve. “Well, here we are,” She said. “Now what?” 

Edwin grimaced. “Well,” He said. “Mother said we would need to….”

“You need to leave, or die, accursed one!”

The shape hovering above the corpse was vaguely female in shape, with the hint of dark eyes in a mostly featureless face surrounded by floating hair. The corpse, the wall and the floor were all clearly visible through it, transparent as it was, and it seemed oddly flat, as if it existed only in two dimensions. It crackled as it spoke, its voice a low buzzing which went straight into the heads of the three people rather than into their ears. 

_Of course_ , Zaerini thought, not taking her eyes off the apparition. _A ghost. Even worse, the ghost of a Witch. Too bad Vic isn’t here, but we’ll have to make do. How dangerous is she? Can she repeat her past trick again so soon?_ “You twisted our minds,” She flatly stated. “You tried to make us kill each other.”

“I showed you the truth,” The ghost said, cold and stinking air wafting from her. “I showed you what happened.”

“Insufficient,” Edwin said with a small sneer. “You were killed well before the end, were you not? What could you possibly know?” He tucked his hands inside the long sleeves of his robe and shrugged. “Ah well. I dare say there are other corpses around. You and your pathetic little circle were quite thoroughly decimated, were you not?”

“Eddie?” Rini said. “Maybe not provoking the angry ghost would be better, don’t you think?”

“You will die soon enough, Red Wizard!” The ghost hissed. “You, and….” It trailed off, then reared up, glaring at Minsc who had simply stood watching it curiously. “You! Traitor! How do you serve one of the accursed ones, sworn enemy of your own people?”

“Minsc does not serve him,” The ranger calmly stated. “Minsc serves Minsc’s Witch.” 

“Witch? HER?! She is not one of the _Wychlaran_!”

Minsc nodded. “That is so. She is Minsc’s Witch, and Minsc’s friend. It is very simple, why is it you do not understand?”

The ghost’s form became briefly more solid, and waves of cold emanated from her. Rini took a quick step back, she could feel that unearthly chill striving to enter her body, to freeze and to kill. The white face flickered, features visible for a moment before they blurred again into smoothness. “Traitors must be punished,” It stated. “That is why we came. Traitors must pay.” A white hand swept through the air, fragments of icy mist tearing away from it like thrown icicles, flying through the air. One of them grazed Zaerini’s cheek, and she gasped at the sudden sharp pain. It burnt, cold as it was, and half of her face felt numb. Minsc dropped silently to his knees as another two fragments buried themselves in his chest. _Not in his heart. Please, not in his heart._

“That will do,” Edwin said, holding his right hand up, palm open. A shimmering shield was forming around him, the ghost’s attacks bouncing harmlessly off it. “Cease your tantrum, Witch!” 

“You can resist me for now, accursed one, but not forever! And these others with you, they are not so lucky.”

Edwin shrugged. “Mere minions, their purpose will have been served as long as I best you. Not that there was ever any doubt of that, of course.” There was an almost imperceptible flicker of his eyes as he looked at Rini, the tiniest hint of a nod – in the direction of the corpse? Yes, that was it. _Aha. Got it._

The half-elf edged carefully closer to the dead body, trying to seem as beaten down and harmless as possible. The ghost was still trading insults with Edwin, having now resorted to spitting curses in what she thought was the Rashemani language, and was paying little attention to her, but she still had to be careful. She eyed the corpse, making her choice, and then, while the ghost’s attention was elsewhere, she made her move. With a soft ‘crack’, and a swift tearing of rotting tissues a finger came loose in her grasp, and the ghost shrieked, its attention fully upon her once more. 

“Give me that!” It screamed. “It’s mine!”

“Want it, do you?” Rini said, her voice a little slurred from her numb cheek. “All yours, if you can find it.” She passed the finger swiftly from hand to hand, her own fingers moving so quickly they were nearly a blur, hopefully quickly enough to confuse the spirit in front of her. And it seemed to be working, the angry ghost was watching her, but not attacking, not yet. And here came the twist, she pretended to be about to pass the finger once more from one hand to the other, but instead she threw it, and it landed neatly in Edwin’s outstretched palm. The ghost followed, like a dog after a stick, without thought or reason, curling itself up into a spiral of flowing mist. It shot itself like an arrow directly at the wizard – and its wail diminished into the whine of an angry mosquito as it noticed too late what he was holding. 

“Perfect,” The wizard said with a warm smile as he plugged the lead bottle shut with a stopper covered with so many glittering runes it could have been used instead of a candle. “I knew I could count on you, my Hellkitten.” 

“’Course,” Rini said with a lopsided grin as she helped Minsc get to his feet again. He was staggering but didn’t seem badly hurt. “And you’re sure that’ll hold it?”

“Absolutely. Mother is very experienced with these things, and while a mere bodypart would have sufficed for what she has planned, she took care to prepare for restless spirits. That creature is bound to its corpse, and as long as a part of the corpse is inside the bottle, it will be stuck there.” 

“Awesome. So, what now?”

Edwin eyed the bottle and smiled. It was a slow, and not entirely pleasant smile. “Now,” He said, “We will have a little conversation with the Witch.” 

-*-

The return to Thay through the Pocketplane was blissfully uneventful, and Rini even dared entertain some hope that she was beginning to master this new ability of hers. At least it would allow her to return to places previously visited, and she thought she could feel the pull in her blood getting stronger every time it used it. _Getting more powerful is good, isn’t it? But where will it end?_

Now was not the time for thinking about that, however. She and Edwin had proudly presented Elvira with the stoppered bottle, and the wizardess was clutching it eagerly, her smile wide and bright. 

“Excellent work, children,” She said, the tip of her finger lightly stroking the bottle. “Let us see what we can make of it, shall we?” She turned on her heel, clearly expecting them to follow, her magerobes swishing around her legs as she walked at a pace so quick it was almost a run. Down, down, into that secluded magelab Rini had visited once before. Elvira locked and bolted the door, motioning for Rini to sit down and watch. “Edwin, be a dear and fetch me five of the corpsefat candles. Red, blue, yellow, green and black, if you please. I will begin the circle.” She set the bottle down in the middle of the floor, picked a piece of chalk up from a shelf and proceeded to draw a very complicated pattern around the bottle. It was a circle, yes, but it also had crisscrossing patterns, odd squiggles surrounding it, and symbols which Rini knew she had no hope of deciphering. She thought about asking, and quickly decided against it. She really, really, REALLY didn’t want to distract Elvira right now, not if it meant the ghost might break free again. Even Edwin was quiet for once, and simply handed his mother the requested candles, then sat down next to Rini. She reached out to take his hand, squeezing his cold fingers and felt them tremble slightly as he squeezed back. 

“There,” Elvira finally said. She was standing outside the circle, her eyes intent on the bottle. “Now, before I begin, you must remember not to interfere under any circumstances, and by that, Edwin, I include not speaking. Yes, no matter what she says, or how she tries to provoke us. She will be trying to break my concentration. That cannot be allowed to happen, do you understand?”

“Of course, Mother.”

“Good.” Elvira exhaled slowly, flexing her fingers. Then she began chanting a spell, slow and tongue twisting syllables which Rini didn’t recognize at all. This was high magic, a step above the spells she herself had mastered so far. At first, nothing at all seemed to be happening. Then, she blinked in surprise, again, and again. It seemed to be growing darker in the room, a sooty black veil drifting before her eyes, and yet she could still see the candles, five pinpoints of flickering light. The circle was glowing as well, its runes like dying embers. The stopper trembled, then shuddered, and finally popped out of the bottle with a loud bang, embedding itself in the ceiling. White mist curled out of the open bottle, hissing and recoiling from the circle. She felt Edwin gripping her hand tighter as the mist rose into a column, then shaped itself into the female figure they had seen before.

“North and South, East and West, the depths between,” Elvira said in a cold and utterly steady voice. “You are bound to my will, spirit. You will answer to me.” 

The ghost simply hissed in reply, too long fingers entwining and clutching each other. 

“You crossed our borders to find a man, “ Elvira stated. “The man who killed you, and others of your kind. I know this to be truth. I will know the rest of the truth. I will know what became of him, and where he is now.”

“If you know so much, then why ask me?” The ghost said with a small sneer flitting across its otherwise blank face. “Did he not slay me, this man of yours? How would I know what became of him after?”

“You had orders,” Elvira said, not taking her eyes off the billowing shape within the circle. “You will tell me what those orders were. You will tell me everything you know, and once you have done so I may not scatter your essence across all of the Nine Hells. Tell me. Now.”

“To bring him home, to Rasheman, alive, at all costs,” The ghost replied, fingers raking grooves through her motionless face as the circle burned brighter against her. “It hurts! Let me go!”

“No. You have not given me enough. Where in Rasheman? What was the final destination? Tell me!”

“I…I am…I was not the _othlor_! I knew only what I was told!”

“Then tell me!” Elvira raised her hands and the ghost shrieked, a horrible, shrill sound. It had lost its humanoid shape and was nothing more than a formless ball of mist now, and yet it kept screaming, screaming with no mouth.” Elvira grimly spoke a single word, and the shrieking grew louder, then stopped. “Tell me.”

“To the north,” the ghost whispered. “To the sacred places. To…to Urling. We were supposed to take him to Urling, and have him collected there.”

The name meant absolutely nothing to Rini, but she saw Elvira’s eyes widen slightly, and her face going a shade paler. “Urling,” the wizardess said. “Is this true?”

“You know it is,” The ghost said, now sounding more confident and smugger once more. “Your circle compels me, I cannot lie. Yes, to Urling, and to Urlingwood beyond it. They will have reached it now, the sacred wood, the wood protected by a thousand spells and curses, the wood protected by all my sisters and their strongest magic. I have told you the truth, for all the good it will do you! No Red Wizard, no intruder, has ever breached the sacred wood, and none ever will. Whatever you want with this man, you shall not have it, for he is beyond your reach, forever. Traitors will be punished, and if you think you have made me suffer, then by the power of your filthy circle know that he will already have suffered tenfold!”

Elvira stood absolutely still for a moment, and then she slowly inhaled. Her face was calm, but her large dark eyes seemed shinier than before. “And this is all you know?” She said, her voice softer than before but still steady. “You have told me everything you know of this.”

“Everything I know, Accursed One. Now let me go!”

“Yes. I will.” 

Elvira briskly clapped her hands together, and the darkness began to unravel, the candles flickered faster. The ghost hung motionless in midair, silent at first, and then it began to shriek anew, louder even than before. It was unraveling along with the spell, slowly being twisted and torn apart, fragments scattering into the glowing runes of the circle, hissing as they made contact. The spirit twisted and struggled, it cursed and spat obscenities, it threatened and pleased and finally, it begged. Elvira watched it in silence, until the last whimpering remnant had been absorbed into the glowing runes with a final squeal of pain. Then, she took a step forward, and with the dainty toe of her shoe she rubbed the circle out. 

-*-

It was midmorning in the small hamlet of Urling, in northern Rasheman. The sun had climbed a fair distance over the horizon already, the sky was that particular shade of bright blue which comes along with a slight bite in the crisp air and all was peaceful. Now and then a bird called out, or there was the distant bleat of a sheep. All around the village, tall trees stood, mostly evergreens intermixed with the occasional alder. You could hear the voices of the forest as you walked among them, the small creaks of branches, the whispering leaves, and the occasional soft thud. A small red squirrel raced up the trunk of a large pine, then paused high up on a safe branch. All had been quiet and peaceful until now, but it had just heard something, and it was better to be safe than sorry. The squirrel sat motionless, nose twitching, as its round black eyes darted back and forth. It had definitely heard a noise which shouldn’t have been there. A human? But most of the humans stayed in the village and just around it, only a very few went into the proper forest. And this noise hadn’t sounded like human footsteps either. It was still there, a low throbbing hum with a disturbing edge which sounded like a faint shriek, and it was growing louder by the moment. And now there was light as well, a bright light growing in the air, first a pinprick, then a sliver, then a rapidly expanding disc. The squirrel pressed itself flat against its branch and watched as four odd humans appeared within the light, their smells sharp and bright from the glowing light which still clung to them. Then, it turned around and headed further up the tree. It was a wise old squirrel, nearly five summers old, and it could recognize Trouble when it saw it coming. 

_So. This is Rasheman._ Zaerini blinked against the fading flashes of residual magic, trying to get her bearings and adjust to this new place. _So far, so good._ There were no humans in the immediate area, though she thought she could hear the occasional sound of a human voice in the distance. The scent of pine needles overwhelmed most other smells, but there was definitely a cooking fire going somewhere in the direction where she’d heard the voices. As for the forest itself, it was clearly old, the trees not as huge as the ones around Suldanesselar, but still towering high above her, blocking out most of the sunlight under a thick canopy of branches. _Jaheira would have known all sorts of things about them, I’m sure. But to me, they’re still ‘trees’._ The half-elf smiled faintly at that thought. At least she thought she’d appeared where she wanted to, it had felt right as she channeled her portal from the pocketplane. She hadn’t wanted to appear within the village of Urling itself, which would draw unwanted attention. Landing deep within the Urlingwood would have been even worse, of course. 

_One of the most sacred places in Holy Rasheman_ , Minsc had explained. _It is for the Witches only, forbidden for all others. All others who enter it are put to death._

_What, anybody?_ Imoen had asked, her blue eyes round. _What if somebody doesn’t know, and just…just gets lost and walks in there by mistake? Or what if somebody doesn’t know it’s forbidden?_

_Everybody_ , Minsc said. _The Witches have many secrets to keep. There are guards to keep visitors from going too far into the woods by mistake, but still, some do. The Witches question them, claim their things, and then leave the bodies at the forest’s edge afterwards, for the guards to carry away. They are said to look mostly peaceful. Perhaps it does not hurt so much, what the Witches do?_ The large man had given Rini a hopeful look. Clearly, he wanted to believe what he was saying. 

_Let’s avoid finding out_ , Rini had said. _I’ll take us to the village of Urling itself, to start with. That isn’t forbidden for travelers, you said. We’ll reconnoiter, see what people in the area know, and then comes the tricky part._ She sighed as she thought once more about the tricky part. As if wasn’t enough with all the powerful Witches themselves, and armies of loyal human warriors, the forest supposedly was home to various powerful creatures and spirits allied with the Witches. Last but not least, it was thoroughly trapped with high level spells and glyphs to be triggered by intruders, several of which would of course be attuned to the magical signatures of the Red Wizards of Thay. 

It had not been pleasant to tell Edwin that he couldn’t come. She still winced as she thought about the blistering argument they’d had about it, and what made it worse was that when he’d finally given in there had been such a hopeless, helpless look in his eyes that she just wanted to relent and hug him close and tell him that she’d changed her mind. _But I can’t. We’ll only get one chance at this, and we can’t afford to fail._ It was true, she knew it, but that didn’t make her feel any better. _Sometimes, being the one to make these choices really sucks._

In the end, she had decided on a party of four. Minsc had to come of course, as the only native Rashemani. Even if he’d been never been inside the Urlingwood, he could still speak the language, he would know how to act and behave and that could hopefully give them an edge. Sarevok wouldn’t look out of place as a second bodyguard and would provide more muscle, and Immy would have to deal with non-magical traps and locks and looked harmless enough that she shouldn’t cause suspicions among the villagers. _And as for me, everybody knows bards will go anywhere in search of good stories and songs. Why not here, as well?_

Viconia had remained behind with Edwin, for much the same reason. While the Witches and their cohorts were of course most on their guard against Thayvians and would go into full Red Wizard Alert if they saw one, a drow probably wouldn’t be very welcome either. _Normally I wouldn’t care. But for now, I’ve got to play the game their way, and I can’t trust an illusionspell to hold as long as necessary, not with all these Witches in the area. Once we get Vadrak, I can whisk him into the pocketplane and into Vic’s healing hands in pretty much an instant, and until then we’ll just have to manage as best we can._

As the trees grew sparser, the travelers came across a narrow road, winding its way through the forest. “Ok, this is it,” Rini quietly said to her friends. “Remember the story. I had an elf mother and a human father, and he was said to be Rashemi. I never met him, but I want to travel the country to learn what I can of it. That should explain me being nosy, at least I hope so.” 

“I’m surprised we have seen no guards yet,” Sarevok said, frowning. “For a place supposedly so heavily protected, it seems odd.”

“Not all guards are human,” Minsc explained. “And this road is allowed to travelers.”

“Well, it looks like we’re almost there,” Imoen said. “There’s a clearing ahead, see? I wonder what Rasheman villages look like? Think they’re all magical, with talking animals and flying people, or maybe floating houses high up in the air, or dancing pixies, or…or…”

“Or holes in the ground,” Rini said, coming to a halt. 

“Or holes in…wait, what?”

The mounds were situated in a cluster around the village green, with a few by themselves towards the outskirts of the village. They were of varying sizes and shapes, all of them covered with grass and flowers so that they could at first sight be mistaken for natural parts of the landscape. They had wooden doors, painted in bright colours, and there was smoke lazily curling out of hidden smoke holes. People were walking about, or working at various tasks, or just talking. There were children playing, chasing each other round and round a small pond where a family of ducks were bobbing about. Some of the people had noticed the strangers by now, and were watching them curiously, but showing no fear. 

_Of course, most of them will be Witches_ , Rini thought, remembering what she had managed to learn of this place. _Witches, their families and their guards. The most powerful Witches in Rasheman at that, the ones high up in the ranks, allowed into the sacred wood._

“Greetings, travelers,” Said a young woman who was calmly approaching them. She was a little taller than Rini, with long and shiny brown hair, rather pale skin and steady blue eyes. Her magerobe was blue as well, and deceptively plain, but it was very well made. “I am Ynis Valeina. Welcome to the village of Urling, and to Rasheman.” 

“Thank you,” Rini said, smiling her best smile. She proceeded to introduce an abbreviated version of her cover story. 

“There is an inn nearby, the Green Chapel,” Ynis said, pointing the correct mound out. “You will be welcome to stay there for a few days, though I must warn you that travelers are asked not to linger overlong in this place.”

“Sure, that’s fine,” Imoen said, rivalling her sister with the brightness of her smile. “We wouldn’t want to be a bother.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Sarevok rumbled. 

“Boo is most curious, does the inn have nuts? His tiny hamster belly is rumbling, and Minsc wouldn’t want him to get cranky.”

“Yes….” Ynis said, giving Minsc what Zaerini had come to recognize now as the look of a person meeting Minsc and Boo for the first time. “I believe it does. Tell me, are you entirely…”

“Well, we’d better go find that inn,” Rini interrupted. “It’s been a long trip, and we’re pretty much exhausted. Thank you so much for your hospitality, I’m sure we’ll have a lovely time here. Maybe I could give you a show later tonight, hm?” She nodded to the other woman, and then set off with her friends in tow. 

The inn turned out to be a medium sized mound covered with daises, with a bright green door. There was a horse and a couple of ponies hitched outside it, by a watering trough, but it seemed quiet inside. No shouting or screaming, no singing or clanking of glasses. _Bit early in the day, I guess. Plus they probably don’t get many guests._

“Do all Rashemi live in holes?” Sarevok said, staring at the odd structure. “If there is some peculiar affinity for rodents it would explain so much about the hamster obsession.”

“Ha no!” Minsc said, cheerfully clapping the other man on the shoulder. “Though Minsc has tried, he cannot stuff his cheeks as well as Boo does, nor attack with equal ferocity and cunning. No, there are common houses in Rasheman as well, Minsc’s own berserker lodge was made from wood and stone. This place is special.”

“It grants a closer affinity to the earth,” A strange voice said from above the adventurers. “Very useful when it comes to communicating with the spirits of the soil – not the night soil you understand, I find the customers manage that all on their own.” 

Rini looked up to see a man sitting on what had to be called the roof of the inn, the top of the mound. He was of middle age, with a tanned and deeply lined face, and a pleasant smile, and was wearing plain clothing. “Sorry, bad manners,” He said, slapping himself on the forehead. “I am Selov, innkeeper of the Green Chapel. You caught me at an unfortunate time, friends. This blasted chimney is completely clogged, I think something died inside it. You’ll be wanting rooms, I take it?”

“Right,” Rini said. “Two rooms please, for myself and my friends here.”

“Well you’re in luck, for two rooms are exactly what we’ve got,” Selov said, chuckling to himself. “The keys are behind the bar, hanging on hooks on the wall. Help yourselves to them, and if you’d like a cold drink or something to eat later, just let me know and I’ll sort it out as soon as I’m done with this.”

“Couldn’t anybody help you?” Imoen asked. She wiggled her fingers briefly. “You know, a spell or something?”

“I thought about that, yes, and some form of Alteration spell might be just the thing, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it ended up expanding the thaumic resonance to the point where it blows the entire roof off. No, this way is safer, sorry about the inconvenience, but I’ll be with you shortly.” He went back to his work, poking carefully into a hole on the top of the mound with a long rod. The adventurers let themselves inside the inn, finding it clean and tidy, with a wooden floor polished until it gleamed, a few round tables and a bar, and a short corridor leading deeper into the mound. The keys were where Selov had said they’d been, and opened the doors to two bedrooms, rather small but neat, with beds set into the walls of the mound and small windows letting the daylight in. 

“This place gives me the creeps,” Imoen said with a shudder once the four had gathered in one of the bedrooms. “I feel all shut in, like being back in Spellhold.”

“I know what you mean,” Rini said. “But it’s how they live themselves it seems, for whatever reason. This isn’t a cell.” No, but there’ll be a cell somewhere else, won’t there? She remembered her latest Reading, and what she’d seen, what the vision of Dekaras had told her. _Under the Hill. That’s what he said. But which one? Softy, can you pick anything up?_

_Faint traces_ , her familiar answered her. _But yes, your mate’s sire was here. I’m snooping around the village, I can pick his scent up in a couple of places, and traces of blood, but it’s strongest near where you are. Too weak for him still to be there though._

“So, he _was_ here,” She whispered, then explained what she meant to her friends. “The innkeeper’s bound to know something. A group of Witches with a prisoner, that’s not something you’d forget about.”

“Perhaps,” Sarevok said, “But he is unlikely to talk, at least voluntarily. I could persuade him for you, but the noises might bring unwanted attention.”

“Er, thanks, but let’s try some other way. I’ll perform tonight, like I said, that should draw a crowd and maybe loosen a few tongues once they get a few drinks into them. Any other ideas?”

“I’ll talk to the kids,” Imoen said. “Kids notice more than grownups think they do. Remember Candlekeep? If somebody brought a mysterious prisoner there, there’s no way you and I wouldn’t have known all about it.”

“Minsc will wander the village with Boo. Boo says there may be much to learn from watching.”

“Right. Sarevok, why don’t you come with me? A drink sounds like a good idea, and we could chat with the innkeeper at the same time.”

“Certainly,” Sarevok said, drawing himself up proudly. “My interrogation techniques are, after all, legendary. I am glad you have seen sense about this. It is a shame these hovels are so unimpressive in size, I think interrogations are best done on top of taller buildings than this, where the ‘lift and throttle’ maneuver can be fully applied.” 

“Drinks first, Big Brother. Then we’ll see.” 

-*-

“Are you sure? Rashemi Firewine is quite strong, and…”

“Quite sure, Innkeep,” Sarevok interrupted. “I’ve had it before, and worse.”

“As you wish, of course,” Selov said, handing the large warrior a glass filled with a deep ruby red fluid which gave off the occasional narrow tendril of smoke. “Just in case, I believe I have a bucket of water in the kitchen.”

Sarevok sipped his drink, and then sat very still. He didn’t speak, or cry out, or cough, but his face had taken on a higher colour, and Rini thought she could see a tiny tear at the corner of his eye. She watched with interest, tasting her own small cider. It was quite good. 

“Er, you ok?” She asked her brother. His expression still didn’t change, and his nod was very minute. 

“I’m afraid the version we sell to outlanders is watered down,” Selov said with an apologetic smile. “To a ten percent solution, I believe. He should come around soon enough.” 

“Well, at least he can boast that he faced the deadliest terror in Rasheman and lived,” Rini joked. “Or is there worse around here? Some kind of pepper monster maybe? Garlic Wraiths? Come on, spill the beans, you can’t let us face the Spirit of Curry unwarned. Innkeepers always warn travelers of the creepy horrors lurking about the mysterious woods and villages, it is known.”

“Well,” Selov said, suddenly looking serious. “You do know that the forest is a restricted area, I hope? I really cannot say too much about it other than that.”

“Oh, sure, sure, but can you blame me for being curious? Don’t worry, I’m not trying to make you lose your job or anything, but it can’t all be secret, can it? For one thing, are there things in there not summoned up by the Witches?”

“Oh, absolutely. Rasheman is a country very highly saturated with arcane energies, and there are many woodland and water spirits wherever you go, some benevolent, others not. Urlingwood is no exception, there are many strange creatures in there and they lead their own lives independent of us humans. I really wouldn’t recommend walking in there even if it wasn’t for the prohibition.”

“You guys don’t go in there at all, then? Not even to say, hunt, or pick berries or mushrooms? I can imagine there’d be some pretty good game in there.”

“There are many beasts, yes, great and small. There is a perimeter around the village wide enough that some hunting and gathering may take place, and it is clearly marked. Beyond that, it is forbidden to go on pain of death.”

“Right,” Rini said, thoughtfully twining a lock of red hair around her finger. “Wouldn’t want to wander too far by accident, I’m sure. Thanks for telling me.”

“Do you get many travelers here?” Sarevok asked, his voice still hoarse after his drink. His golden eyes narrowed as he watched the innkeeper. “It seems to me that it would be difficult to make an inn in such a remote place profitable.”

“Well…” Selov said, looking a little bothered. “I make ends meet; you know.”

“No starvation imminent then? If you can barely hunt, and the wood surrounds the village to the extent that there is barely any farmland…”

“Oh, no, no! In glorious Rasheman, all are provided for, of course. Here, no one is left alone to fend for themselves, and all are provided for, according to our skills and talents.” Selov leant forward across the bar, nodding as he spoke. “I spoke of spirits and monsters before, and it was true, but Rasheman really is a safe country you know, the safest there is.”

“As long as you obey the Witches of course,” Rini said. 

“Why, yes, of course, but why wouldn’t you? The Wychlaran want only what is best for Rasheman, what is best for all of us, and all fundamentally decent folk with the proper core values agree. Rasheman is entirely built on consensus you know. There is no strife here, no rebellion. There is no reason for it, for we are the happiest folk in the world.” The innkeeper smiled brightly, but there was something wrong with his eyes. They were a little too fervent. 

“So...place of perfection then? Sounds great.”

“Absolutely. Rasheman is ruled along the principles of order and goodness. We all have our place to fill, our way to serve, and we do so gladly. We are all of Equal Value.” 

_And the Witches are just a little bit more equal than everybody else_ , Rini thought, but she didn’t say it out loud. She met Sarevok’s eyes and gave her brother a minute nod. It was time. 

“I couldn’t help but notice,” Sarevok said, “That for an innkeeper you seem unusually knowledgeable about arcane matters. That comment you made about your roof for example. Is that also common in Rasheman?” He smiled, a tight, narrow smile. “You’re not a mage on the side, are you? I wouldn’t want to think that I’d given offence in my ignorance.”

Selov swallowed quickly, his eyes flitting between the large man and the slight woman in front of him. “No,” He said. “I am no mage. But I was.” 

_Gotcha!_ “What happened?” Rini asked. “Or aren’t you supposed to talk about it?”

“No, no,” Selov said with a weary sigh. “It is no secret, and it was a long time ago, after all. You are quite right. I was one of the Old Ones, the _Vremyonni_. You have heard of them?”

“A bit. Crafters of magic artifacts, right? All male mages in Rasheman join their ranks.”

“Yes. Well, I was researching a new spell, a rather complicated one. It was a variation on a ritual which is used to…ah, but I shouldn’t speak of that. Suffice it to say, it was intended as a weapon. The Red Wizards are a constant threat after all. If it had worked out as planned, we could have turned the tide in our favor once and for all.”

“I take it that it didn’t,” Sarevok said. 

“No. The spell backfired in a rather spectacular manner. My magic abilities were burnt out, as if they had never existed, and the project was cancelled. The _Wychlaran_ were kind enough to provide me with a new livelihood.” 

“As an innkeeper.”

“It’s not an unpleasant occupation,” Selov said with a wry smile. “I get to meet interesting people, I get to hear news sooner than most people, and I occasionally indulge in sampling my own wares.”

“It just seems a bit of a waste,” Rini said, leaning her head in her hands as she gave him a sympathetic look. “I mean, it’s not as if your whole mind got wiped clean. I bet there’d be all sorts of other things you could do to help the Witches, other than serve drinks. Wouldn’t there?”

Selov just looked at her blankly, as if he wasn’t entirely aware she was there.

“Innkeep?” Sarevok said, waving a hand in front of the other man’s face. “Can you hear me?”

Selov startled. “Oh, so sorry,” He said. “Forget my own head next. You…are the two new guests, yes? Can I get you anything to drink?” He spotted the half empty cider glass and the nearly untouched wineglass. “Oh…I thought…” The look of surprise on his face seemed entirely genuine. “Were we talking about something? I can’t quite seem to remember.” 

“That’s all right,” Rini hurried to say. “Don’t worry about it.” _Some kind of amnesia spell_ , she thought, her mind tingling with the residue of subtle magic. _A permanent one, deep in his brain, set to trigger when he’s asked the wrong questions, or says the wrong thing. Maybe even if he thinks the wrong thing._ She watched the smiling, seemingly happy man wiping the bar down, and her insides felt coated with a thin layer of ice. _Welcome to Rasheman._


	15. The White Room

**Throne Of Cards 15 – The White Room**

_It’s true I can’t fight as well as a trained warrior or cast spells on par with a trained wizard. People always remember that part. What they forget is that I can do all sorts of things, and that in turn means that they don’t know from which direction I’ll be coming at them._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

Changing into catform always required a minute or two of adjustment before she felt entirely comfortable in her new skin. Zaerini carefully padded across the thick, green moss under the trees of Urlingwood, taking pleasure in making absolutely no sound at all. 

_You’re doing pretty well, Kitten_ , Softpaws told her. The black cat was following close behind, pausing now and then to sniff the air. So far, there had been no sign of danger, but it wouldn’t do to let their guards down. _This will be a good hunt, I think._

_And a successful one, I hope._ A ray of sunlight trickled down between the thick canopy of the branches high above, and she carefully stepped around it, not wanting it to glint off her red fur. There were birds singing high above, which was good and meant there probably wasn’t anything dangerous nearby. Even so…this was Urlingwood. _I wish the others could have come. But it has to be this way._

It all made perfect sense, even Edwin had been forced to admit that as the group conversed inside the pocket plane late at night. Selov had said there were plenty of animals inside the forest. That meant the Witches and the creatures living there weren’t indiscriminately killing them off but leaving them mostly to themselves. It only made sense, the Witches wouldn’t want their magical wards and traps to be triggered by any random wandering bunny, after all. They’d want them to be set off only by people. And so, given that she was the only one of them able to shapechange for as long as necessary, it made perfect sense that she should go in alone. 

_Oh yes, perfect sense_ , Edwin had snarled, his eyes wild and desperate. _That’s exactly what_ he _would always say, and look where it got him!_ He had taken hold of her arms, pulling her close, whispering in her ear. _I can’t lose you. Not you too._

_You won’t_ , she had said. _Neither of us. I will bring him back, you know. I’ve got a plan._

_Yes, of course you do_ , he had sighed. _That’s what he always says as well. You do realize, we have enough firepower to blast our way through that infernal wood and be done with it?_

_I know. But if we do, we can’t avoid the Witches knowing we’re coming, and then what? At best, they’ll only move Vadrak to some other prison before we can reach him. At worst…_

Edwin had winced. _Yes. Yes, I know. But I still don’t have to like this._

_I know._ She had pulled him closer, for a kiss. _I wish you could come as well. But this is how it has to be._

_Speaking of which…Hellkitten, I have been thinking of something. Something I’ve been meaning to ask you?_

_Yes?_ She had winced a little at the eagerness in her voice just then. _What is it?_

_You’re growing in power and awareness at a rate which is…unprecedented. I wonder if you’ve given any thought to how it will eventually change you?_

_Oh. That._ She’d made a grimace. _I try not to think about it too much, if you must know._

_Well, you should! It is extremely important; do you not see this?_

_I’m still me, Dread Wizard. That hasn’t changed, and how I feel about you hasn’t changed either._

_Just promise me that you will at least consider the implications, will you?_

_Fine._ She kissed him again, nestling into his arms. _But not right now. We’ll talk about it when I get back from the forest, ok?_

And here she was now, heading deeper into the mysterious Urlingwood with only her familiar for company, hoping that her plan would be enough. Imoen had made good on her promise and spent an entire afternoon playing at skipping ropes and a complicated game which involved a ball and ‘annexing territories’ by drawing markings in the dirt, and had made herself the undisputed favorite of the village children by pretending to pull coins and candy out of their ears. She’d been chatting openly with them for hours, asking only friendly and innocuous questions, and had finally hit pay dirt in the form of Gitana. Gitana was a small girl who tended to hang back from the other children, being too small, too clever and too honest to hold much appeal to them. Since she mostly had to entertain herself, she’d gotten very good at moving about unseen and finding out about things her elders had no idea she knew. She’d been awake and unable to sleep on that night a couple of months back when the _Wychlaran_ had brought a prisoner back in chains to the village, surrounded by so many guards it had made a deep impression on the child. Gitana had tried her best to find out what was going on, certain that the man must be a dangerous Red Wizard and very keen to see one up close whether the adults wanted her to or not. She hadn’t succeeded in that, since there were always so many guards in the way, but she had managed to see the Witches taking him away, again late at night. That meant Rini had at least an approximate idea which direction to start searching in, even if the forest was large. 

Minsc, meanwhile, had spent his time in innocent conversation with the guards of the village. He’d asked no questions about the Witches or their affairs but had simply chatted about daily village life. Among those questions had been one which Rini had particularly asked him to pose, and the answer had led to her having a certain bag secreted about her person – at least it should be secreted about her person when she turned back to her normal shape. 

_Let’s hope all those books I read back in Candlekeep will pay off. But they all agreed, there should be one in every forest in Rasheman. There has to be one in here as well. I just hope the books were right about them, that’s all._

Last evening, she had spent in the inn’s small taproom, singing some of her songs and learning others in return, both deeply mournful ones which could have made a stone weep and very cheerful ones involving a lot of clapping of hands and stomping of feet. Imoen had been especially taken with the dancing and had accidentally kicked Sarevok’s drink straight out of his hand, not a mean feat given he was standing up at the time. Amazingly enough the warrior had simply chuckled and hoisted her across his shoulder, then joined in the dance to the applause of the present villagers. Sarevok could definitely stomp his feet when he wanted to. Rini had sung, and played, and smiled, and pretended not to know that at least half the smiling, friendly people present in the room would have gladly killed her if they knew what she was up to. The last song she had learned rang through her head even now. 

_Dance the dance  
Don’t ever let them catch you  
Dance the dance  
Don’t even let them try_

She could scent magic, sharp and tingling in the air. A ward, set at a human’s chest level, and another one, lower down. This one wasn’t deadly, just an alert to warn the watchers in the wood to be on their guard against a possible intruder. She slipped past it, not taking any chances. 

_Dance the dance  
Like moonlight on the water  
Dance the dance  
Let them stand and cry_

She scurried up a tree with her familiar at her side, then watched from a shadowy branch as a pair of golden skinned, slender people with long, narrow faces slunk through the bushes, almost as graceful as cats themselves. Not humans, not elves. Spirit folk, half human and half the spirits of Rasheman wood and water. She didn’t think they’d necessarily be in league with the Witches, but there was no reason to take any chances. Besides, they weren’t what she was looking for. They passed by, not seeing her.

_Dance the dance  
A fire in the deadwood  
Dance the dance  
Even as they lie_

There had been warning totems set by the Witches around the perimeter of the village. Little twisted things, twigs and feathers tied together and hanging from branches, tree trunks smeared with swirling patterns, cairns of rocks meticulously piled on top of each other. _Yeah. Rocks piled on top of other rocks. That’s real scary, folks. Who knows, maybe I’ll be able to teach you a thing or two about being scary._ At first, she and Softpaws had dodged the occasional patrol of warriors, but now it had been quite some time since she’d scented humans. There was the rich, warm scent of the earth, of pine needles piling up and of rotting leaves and old branches, here and there the scents of little skittering, soft and furry things which would crunch and squeal so delightfully between her jaws, filling her mouth with hot blood, but the human scents were faint and none of them fresh. The wards probably didn’t need resetting very often. 

_Dance the dance  
A shadow on your pillow  
Dance the dance  
Right before you die_

There were eyes here and there, between trees and under leaves, behind rocks and branches. Glittering, glowing eyes, blinking and watching. There were sounds as well, little whispers and muffled exclamations, chirps and chatters. She walked on, one paw in front of the other, pretending not to see them. They weren’t what she was looking for. Twig like fingers lightly brushed the fur on the top of her head and she hissed, baring claws and teeth to just get a glimpse of something skinny and green before it disappeared into a hollow log. 

_Dance the dance  
Try your best to catch me  
Dance the dance  
Hope that you can fly_

And here she was. The forest was opening into a clearing, and she knew at once that this had to be the right place. The moss was so soft under her paws, as soft as moist velvet, and the sunlight streamed down like a golden pillar across a small lake. Its water was very still, deep blue where the sunlight touched it, pure black in the shadows, and pale waterlilies floated on top. She sat down, Softpaws next to her, and waited. He could be somewhere else of course, the entire forest belonged to him. Even so, this place felt somehow…more. He had to come here, sooner or later. The whispers and the scurrying noises crept closer, huddling around her, yet out of sight. They wouldn’t bother her, it seemed, and maybe they’d call him for her. 

Aha. Something was coming out from behind a blade of grass, something so small and insignificant she’d never have noticed it if she hadn’t been looking for it, and if she hadn’t been watching with something other than her eyes. As it was, it was impossible to ignore the sense of deep, wild power pushing against her, as strong as the smell of the warm earth and the rotting things in the lake. It was growing now, as tall as she was, getting taller, to a man’s size, then beyond, nearly as tall as the trees even as it sat down. Hair and long, unkempt beard were a mossy green colour, and yes, that was actual moss, grass and twigs growing there, along with the occasional flower. The long, tufted eyebrows were the same, but they didn’t obscure the large, glittering eyes, as bright a green as new grass in spring, glowing like a cat’s. The skin was pale, so white it had a faint bluish tint to it, and the nails were long and sharp. It grinned, showing pointed, yellow teeth. 

“Pretty kitties,” It said. “But not regular kitties, hmmm? Especially not you. Leshy…Leshy look and see, on the ground and up a tree. Hiding kitties, yes. Hiding from Leshy?”

“No,” Rini replied. “We came to find you, Master of the Forest. That is you, isn’t it?” She didn’t speak the way a human would, but she knew that the creature would understand her anyway. 

_Careful, Kitten,_ Softpaws warned her. _He is strong._

_I know. That’s why I wanted to meet him, after all._

“Oh hoh,” The Leshy said, peering down at the two cats, his eyes bright and sharp. “Yes. Leshy is the turn of a man’s feet from the right path, he’s the laughter on the wind, the whisper in the leaves.” He inhaled, then licked his lips briefly. “Hmm. Not normal kitties at all, no. No, no. Such a strong scent of Chaos, yum. Go on, little kitty, change your form, let me have a better look at you. I won’t harm you.”

“Well…” Rini said, making herself sound more reluctant than she actually felt. “I don’t mind, but are you sure it’s safe? I mean, what if they see me? I’d get in trouble.”

“Hm? What is this? What if who sees you? This is the heart of the forest, Leshy sees all here, knows all. Who would trouble little kitties here? Go on, go on, change. Leshy wants to see, yes.”

“All right then. I’ll have to change back when I leave, mind you.” She concentrated, slipping back into her normal, half-elf form and sat down cross-legged in front of the Leshy, looking up at him. Softpaws curled up on her lap, purring. “There.” She tapped her lips with her fingers as if she’d just remembered something. “Ooops, where are my manners? I should give a proper gift to the Lord of the Forest, shouldn’t I? She took a small package, neatly folded up in a clean bit of cloth out of her pocket. “The best cookies to be had in the village of Urling, baked by Mistress Svirna.” _At least according to what the villagers told Minsc. I sure hope they were right. And I hope the lorebooks of Candlekeep were right about your sweet tooth._ “You should have them. Only…” She pretended to hesitate. 

“Yes? Yes, what?” The Leshy was eyeing the cookies eagerly, practically drooling onto her head. “Oooooh, Mistress Svirna’s…Leshy hasn’t had those since that man he led up the branch and down the creek, round and round…the best, so they are. Give them here!”

“Yes, but are you sure you’re really the Master of the Forest?” Rini said, smiling apologetically. “I wouldn’t want to get it wrong and give them to the wrong person, after all. That’d be rude. And I heard this forest was owned by…but I talk too much, maybe I’d better keep these after all.”

“What?” The Leshy snarled, baring his long, sharp teeth. “What did you hear, little kitty? Who pretends to own my forest? Who tries to steal MY cookies?”

“Why, the _Wychlaran_ of course. You must have seen them. Don’t they have some sort of magnificent palace around here somewhere?”

“The humans?” The Leshy’s eyes had gone a darker green, close to black, and there seemed to be things swirling deep within those murky depths. “The humans in the great mound in the clearing?”

“Yes. I mean, I guess so, it’s not as if I can go see for myself, they don’t let others in here after all. I think they have a lot of really important rules about that. So, I thought, maybe they’re the real rulers of this place after all.”

“Rules?” The Leshy growled. “Setting rules in MY forest? The only rule in Leshy’s forest is that there are no rules. Leshy has mostly let them pass unhindered, unless bored enough to make them get lost for a bit. But rules…”

“Oh yes. And all these wards about the place…why, if I hadn’t been my little kitty self, they’d probably have blown me to bits before I got here. Haven’t you noticed them?”

“Pfah, the tingly little things? Like cobwebs and moonbeams?” The Leshy bent closer, and his breath smelled of old wood, rotting in the darkness. “Leshy magic is older. Deeper. Stronger. As deep as the wood itself. Now, hand me those cookies, little kitty. Have one yourself. That’s good.” He stuffed three cookies at once into his mouth, chewing noisily and scattering crumbs. “Mmmmm. Yum. So. Wards, is it? So that’s why Leshy gets so few travelers to play with this past couple centuries, so few to lead off the trails…and they like rules, do they?” His eyes were almost pure black now. “Leshy Leshy, riddle rhyme. Can they solve them all in time? Hmm…tell me this, clever little kitty, little cookie friend. What should old Leshy do, hmm?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t try to tell you what to do, of course. You are the real and true Master of the Forest, I can tell it now. But if you don’t mind me sharing this little idea I just happened to have…”

The Leshy reached out a large hand with long, knobbly fingers to ruffle her hair. “Speak, little kitty. Leshy will listen.”

Zaerini grinned, her heart swelling with triumph. “Let’s…play a game.” 

-*-

Deep within the forest of Urlingwood there was a clearing. Within the clearing there was a mound, a vast mound, honeycombed with caves and caverns, with passages and rooms, corridors and cellars and cells. And inside the most secure cell in the complex, there was a man. It was always light here, a painfully bright white light reflecting off the shining white walls and white floor. The light burned and seared, making any form of rest or relief impossible, disorienting and dazzling. 

_People who complain about the dark need to be slowly stabbed to death with a blunted toothpick_ , Vadrak Dekaras thought, not for the first time. The assassin kept his eyes closed much of the time, aiming for at least a little bit of respite, but that required effort and still didn’t entirely solve the problem. _Well. Try to relax anyway. Stay calm._ Getting any sleep at all was difficult in this place, the blinding light and his restraints both conspired against him, and what little he did get was even more fretful and uneasy than normal. He’d completely lost track of the days by now, and that was probably part of their plan. Thoughts scattering and reforming, strange patterns like a broken kaleidoscope…the pain didn’t help much either. _Don’t think about that. You’ve had worse._ He screwed his eyes more tightly shut, refusing to look down, refusing to see what they had made of him. Damaged, yes. Forgotten? Possibly. Broken? He sighed, exhaling slowly, focusing on keeping his breathing even. _Always did warn Edwin about breaking his toys._ He made himself go still, limp, trying to ease the pain of the restraints that way. _Little girls do play rough, don’t they?_

-*-

“…and the ‘agenda setting information’ drive has been most satisfactory; the appropriate opinions are highly saturated among the populace. The _Oluanna_ herself commended me on my latest campaign against the dark forces of dissent and discontent.”

“Mmmhmm…” Shavarra Ilvezoda said, paying only partial attention to her fellow Wychlaran. Voldra Sallin was dedicated, you had to admit that. Dull, and not particularly bright, but dedicated to the point where any form of criticism or conflicting opinion simply seemed to flow around her until eventually people gave up and let her have her own way. 

“Get them early, that’s what I always say,” Voldra droned on. She had an especially annoying voice, Shavarra decided. Slow, and monotonous. It made you want to fall asleep which would be bad while on guard duty. “Instill the proper core values in the children from the start, through educational games and stories and so forth, and they will saturate through the population. Of course, the fear of social exclusion and public shaming will ensure most potential dissidents will never have the nerve to actually…”

“Right…” Shavarra muttered, peering out into the forest so that she wouldn’t have to look at the other woman and see the rather horrible dark red dye job she’d done on her hair. _More like purple. Does she honestly think it suits her?_ The forest seemed unusually still and silent today. Normally there would be birdsong, little creaks in the trees, wind stirring the branches. Not so today. It was disconcerting. But the wards they were monitoring were still as well, not even a tiny twinge to hint of an intruder. 

“…and my own degree in Critical Public Management and Human Resources…”

_…which would serve most adequately in the common quarter’s outhouse…._

“…all pull together under our glorious leadership to…”

“Hold on,” Shavarra interrupted, raising her hand. “Did you see that?”

“What?” Voldra snapped, not pleased at having to cut her monologue short. “What is it?”

“The trees. Did you see that? They…moved.”

“Don’t be ridiculous! Trees don’t move.”

“I know that. I still saw it. That trunk, right over there, I’m sure that wasn’t there before and…” Shavarra fell silent. There was something else now, something in the deep silence of the forest. Laughter, deep, chuckling laughter. She couldn’t quite tell where it was coming from, or whether it was near or far. “Perhaps we should alert the others?”

“About what? Trees? Too much imagination, that’s what I always said.”

“No, look! Something is there. There, in the bushes.” Yes, there was definitely something there this time, stirring the branches. Shavarra tensed, thinking through her list of available spells. She raised her hands…and lowered them again as a grey bunny peered out of the bush, its nose twitching as it stared at the two women with round, dark eyes. 

“Terrifying,” Voldra sneered. “Perhaps it is in league with the dark armies of Thay, hm?”

“Um…I could have sworn there was…” Another rabbit emerged, and then another. And another. All of them staring in silence. The leader pulled its upper lips up and hissed. Its teeth looked pointier than they should. 

_Ho…Ho…Ho…_

The laughter in the woods sounded closer this time. A red fox darted out of the bushes, swift as an arrow, and sped towards the two women. Without even thinking about it, Shavarra threw up a protective shield and the fox bounced harmlessly off it. It snarled and went up on its hind legs, claws scratching against the shield. “Now do you believe me?!”

Voldra didn’t reply. She was staring at the trees. It was getting dark, which wasn’t right at all at this time in the afternoon, but it was as if the trees were closing in, blotting out the light. And on every branch in every tree there were birds. Crows, sparrows, woodpeckers, a majestic eagle…even a plump wild chicken. All of them, watching the two women, beaks open, heads twitching, beady black eyes staring, claws at the ready. From the other side of the compound there was a loud chorus of howls, like a pack of wolves, and a shriek. A red ward light suddenly started flashing on and off, and a warning bell started chiming its alert. 

_Ho…Ho…Ho…_

The thing in the woods was even closer. A large, shaggy brown head emerged between the trees, powerful feet treading heavily towards the women. The bear was staring at them, red rimmed eyes filled with intent. It was grinning, and its yellow teeth were flecked with blood. The birds shifted hungrily on their branches and the nightmare rabbits bared their fangs. 

“We can take them,” Voldra stated, but she didn’t sound quite as sure of herself as she normally did. “We just need to…”

Shavarra hesitated. She could attack the beasts, yes. On the other hand…she could see something now, a vast dark figure in the trees, enormous green eyes glowing like lanterns, fingers like twigs and branches dancing, weaving darkness. The enormous bear edged closer. It didn’t look…right. It was far too large and moved with too much implacable purpose. Voldra flung a lightning bolt at it, searing its fur. It simply shook itself and kept coming, a swarm of rabbits leaping around its feet. The birds fluttered closer. 

“Voldra…” Shavarra said, taking the other woman by the arm. “I think…”

And now there was a loud buzzing sound, and out of the woods the darkness descended upon the two Wychlaran, pain and panic driving all thoughts of spells clear out of their heads as they stumbled, tried to run, then fell to the ground, jerking and shrieking helplessly, trying in vain to fend off their tiny attackers. 

_Not the bees…_ Shavarra thought and then her thoughts dwindled to nothing as the forest laughed. 

-*-

Red light was flashing on and off from the walls, and there was a loud, blaring noise which made her ears hurt. Earlier, there had been frantic people rushing here and there, but they had all been heading for the upper levels, and now that she was getting deeper into the complex it was quieter. Still, she’d have to be careful not to be spotted. 

Zaerini, in her catform once again, padded silently deeper into the compound, Softpaws at her side. The two cats kept to the shadows, listening for the sound of running feet and avoiding them. The upper levels had been public areas, common rooms, kitchens, study halls and guard posts. Then had come dormitories and libraries, and even a small zoo of magical beasts, the zookeepers currently absent due to the chaos going on upstairs. Rini had paused to let the beasts out, and now there were a bunch of angry unicorns, manticores and tentacle beasts roaming the halls and adding further to the confusion and chaos. Hopefully that would give her the time needed to search this place systematically. The noises as the enraged black unicorn entered the bathhouse had been very promising in terms of maximum mayhem. And now she was down to the lower levels, and hopefully approaching her goal. There were storage rooms here for magical items, and laboratories and other high security areas. While there were still some guards around, there were much fewer than there otherwise would have been, and none had noticed the two cats so far. 

_I must remember to get the Leshy more cookies. Bags full of them, he’s deserved it._

_Focus, Kitten_ , Softpaws warned her. _We’re getting close._

_You’re sure?_

_Yes. I’ve got his scent, even if you don’t._

Rini nodded. She hadn’t spent enough time as a cat to be as sure of this as her familiar was, but she trusted the black cat implicitly on this. If Softpaws said this was Vadrak’s scent they were trailing, then she was prepared to take her word for it. Also, although the corridors were still neat, clean and tidy, there was a certain barrenness to them now, and they’d had to slip through at least one set of bars to get here. It made sense that this could be a prison area. 

And here was a guard post now. As she peered around the corner, she saw that this one was sadly not yet abandoned to the rampaging animals and monsters without or within. Not _Wychlaran_ though, there were six heavily armed tattooed warriors standing about, watching both ends of the corridor. Behind them was a closed and barred door. _That way?_

_Yes_ , Softpaws said. _He went in that way, and he hasn’t come out. It’s not far._

_Right._ Rini watched the guards with narrowed eyes. There was a thick bell cord snaking along the wall next to them. She didn’t want them to raise the alarm, the commotion upstairs was fine as a distraction, but she definitely didn’t want the Witches to know there was anything going wrong in this particular place. _So. Distract, incapacitate or just plain kill?_ The men looked like capable fighters. Perhaps best to make them a bit less capable then. And she wouldn’t even need to hit them all for it to work. Taking care to keep out of sight around the corner she shifted back to her half-elf form and then started whispering a spell, carefully directing it towards the guard post. There were no wards to worry about right here, this was the stronghold of the Witches and spells were cast here all day long. She smiled as she released the spell, seeing it slip through the air with a faint trace of red light. _Ready for this, boys?_

There were tiny tendrils of smoke in the air now, seeping up through the ground. The guards hadn’t noticed them yet, but they were definitely looking uneasy. One of them started scratching himself, first occasionally, then frenetically, then desperately until blood seeped from deep grooves in his skin. Another slumped to the ground, his limbs flopping uselessly. The third turned red in the face, and attacked the fourth, burying his axe in the other man’s skull before turning it on himself. The fifth squeaked, and dwindled into a small, red and very confused squirrel which sat frozen with shock in the middle of the carnage. The sixth wasn’t affected, perhaps he had been carrying some amulet of magic resistance, or perhaps he’d simply gotten lucky. He turned around, searching for attackers, and was just reaching for the bell cord as the enchanted arrow struck him straight in the eye and buried itself deep within his brain. A second one hit his throat before his body even hit the ground and he silently expired in a pool of his own blood. _Not a bad shot, even if I say so myself_ , Zaerini thought. _Guess all the practice has paid off._ She stepped across a still twitching body and started searching for the keys she knew would have to be on one of them. _Not to mention Improved Chaos Field. Wish Eddie could have seen that._ And here were the keys. She triumphantly fished them out of the corpse’s pocket, and then startled at the sound of a brief ‘Squeak!’. “Softy….”

_Mmmmffff…what?_ The black cat was still chewing, crunching tiny bones, and there was a hint of bushy red tail sticking out of her mouth. 

“That’s gross, you know. And suppose he turns back inside your stomach? You’d explode!” 

_It would be worth it. He was very juicy and tender. I could spit some up if you want a taste. There is nothing like fresh summer squirrel._

“Ergh, no thanks. Anyway, here are the keys, so let’s get going.” She unlocked the door and pulled it open. She’d have to be quick now, there was no place to hide the corpses but hopefully it would be a while before anybody else came down here. Thankfully the final passageway was short, with a single door at the end. She unlocked it and stepped inside, suddenly squinting against the too bright white light flooding the room, and then she spat out a word which Gorion would thoroughly have disapproved of her using. 

The room was utterly devoid of furniture, all slick white walls and floor, perhaps to make it easier to clean out blood and other messes. It looked very clean and tidy indeed, as opposed to the man inside. Dekaras had been secured to the wall, his arms spread, and wrists manacled against it so that he was half standing, half hanging. His head was bowed, and she wasn’t sure if he’d even noticed her entering. He had always been thin, but now he was emaciated, and since his upper body was bare, she could see that under the filth and grime there were scars upon scars. She’d have pegged them for lash marks, but they looked a bit too even for that. Magical, perhaps. 

“Vadrak!” She hissed, stepping closer, trying to ignore the stench. “It’s me. Can you hear me?”

He struggled to raise his head and he tried to see her. His hair was a shaggy, filthy mess, to the point where she could barely see his face, and the fact that his beard had grown out made him even more unrecognizable. 

“No…” He whispered, and although his voice was weak, at least it was familiar. “Shouldn’t have come here. Leave!” 

“Don’t be stupid! I’ll get you out of here, you’ll see.” She hesitated as she touched the manacles. Cold steel, yes, but probably magic as well. She looked at her filched keyring, but none of the keys seemed to fit. There wasn’t even a keyhole that she could see. Well, she could sort that out, even if she’d have preferred not having to do things this way. 

“Please leave, now. Before it’s too late. Don’t you see? It’s a trap.” 

_Kitten!_ Softpaw’s warning voice was sharp inside her mind. _Somebody is coming._

Zaerini turned around just as the other woman entered the room, her hand still on the chain securing one of the manacles to the wall. Her heart was beating a little faster, but her head felt cold and clear. The woman was human, and looked to be about her own age, perhaps a couple of years older. She was tall and slim, her face serene and her eyes calm. Rich brown hair, coiled into complicated braids, had been twisted around and pinned to her head with a pair of jeweled bronze pins, but that was the only small hint of a luxury item upon her. Her blue mage robe was plain, if of high quality, and she wore no rings or necklaces that Zaerini could see. 

“Zaerini of Candlekeep,” The woman said, her voice warm and pleasant. Magical shields flared into existence around her, layer upon complex layer. “At last. I was half beginning to wonder if you would make it.”

“Pleasure is all yours,” Rini said, not taking her eyes off the other woman. “You’ve been torturing my friend.”

“Punishing a citizen of fair Rasheman for crimes against the state, as is not only my right but my sacred duty. What kind of guardian would I be if I allowed hatred and corruption to stand unopposed? Of course, the main objective was to hopefully bring you here, to my seat of power, where your defeat would come more easily. I’m only surprised the wizard didn’t come along; I would have expected him to charge in first with you in tow. Is he very frantic, I wonder? I certainly tried my best to increase the stress levels to a point where he wouldn’t be able to ignore them. I have as yet been unable to work out exactly what links these two, but once I learnt there was something, I knew it could be my key to reaching you.”

“And here I am. Who are you, and what do you want?” She clutched the chain a little tighter, willing herself to take this slowly, not to make the other one suspicious.

“I am the _Oluanna_ , the Chosen One. My birthname is unimportant, for I was born to serve the people of Rasheman.”

“By ruling them.”

“By giving them proper guidance. More importantly, I am a Child of Bhaal, much like yourself. I have followed your career with much interest.”

“A Bhaalspawn? You? I guess I should have figured as much. So, can we skip past the pompous monologue and straight to the part where I kill you and loot your corpse? I’m in kind of a hurry here.”

“You cannot possibly harm me,” The Oluanna calmly stated. “I am protected against both spells and all forms of magical weaponry. You, on the other hand, are not. You will fall before me, as will all the others. Darkness must always fall to light, order and justice will be restored to the world. You will not be allowed to despoil it further.”

“And then what? You want to become a goddess? Rule the world?”

“Not at all. Rasheman is quite enough. No, I am merely doing my duty, as I see fit. Now, do you wish to engage in a pointless show of posturing and attempts at battle, or will you surrender? If you do, I promise that your end will be swift and mostly painless.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet of you.”

“It is the right thing to do. Have you made your choice?”

Zaerini smiled. She felt the smile getting wider, her teeth elongating into fangs, claws sprouting from her fingertips. Her skin crawled with erupting fur, as under the skin muscles swelled and tensed. The Slayer snarled, yanking the chain she was holding clear of the wall as she stepped forward. Behind her, she could hear her human friend give a pained gasp as he slumped a little lower, but she didn’t have the time to worry about him now. She pounced, her claws scrabbling uselessly against sparkling magic, the taste sharp and heady in her mouth as she tumbled across the floor, driving the other to the ground. Spells sparked and fizzled against her fur, evaporating like dew in sunlight. Another spell, and this one hurt a little, a scorching smell which made her hiss. She clawed at the woman again, but that hurt as well, blue flames were licking her paws and made her leap aside. 

“You cannot win,” The Witch panted. “I am bolstered by my Sisters safe outside Urlingwood, a full web. I have enough spells to take out an army.” She got to her feet, circling around the room. “You cannot get through my magical protections, but every time you try, I will make you just a little bit weaker. Give up now and spare yourself the pain, I beg you.” She flicked her head irritably to shake back her hair where it had fallen into her face and took a step backwards to get away from the angry creature in front of her. 

_Wait a second. Her hair…_

The thought was clear and filled the Slayer’s roaring red mind. She let the roar out, taunting the Witch, raising her claws. The _Oluanna_ gave a small sigh of regret and raised her hands, preparing to cast a spell…and her face went suddenly slack, her mouth a wide ‘O’ of surprise. A thin string of drool leaked out of it and dribbled down her chin as the magical protective flames flared higher around her. She sagged to her knees and collapsed in a boneless heap on the floor. The Slayer crouched by her side and tilted her lolling head to the side. There was a small wound there, at the base of the skull, seeping dark blood. 

“Nice…distraction there…” The man chained to the wall dreamily said. His one free hand was still clutching the long, sharp bronze hairpin, now wet and dark. Now and then little sparks of lightning flared across his body, remnants of the Witch’s protective spell making him twitch with pain. His face was going a nasty grey colour. “Wouldn’t have…pulled that trick shot off if not for that. Funny…human can do just fine without parts of the brain, but hit just the right spot of the brainstem, mess about, and it’s lights out.” He slumped a little lower, his breath gurgling laboriously. “Get out. Fast. Tell Edwin…that…” 

He fell silent, and even as the Slayer yanked the remaining manacle clear of the wall, she noticed how unnaturally quiet the room felt as he stopped breathing. She was still howling as she shifted back into her own form, clutching him in her arms. There was no heartbeat to be felt. As the power rose in her blood and the dark vortex rose around her to suck her away, she could feel the hot tears start streaming down her face.


	16. Good Intentions

**Throne Of Cards 16 – Good Intentions**

_Desperate times call for desperate measures. Too bad that sometimes those desperate measures make times even more desperate._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

_There are many different skills which are useful in my profession. Even so, I think that perhaps a certain sense of flexibility and a talent for adapting to strange circumstances is the one which has served me best._

_Excerpt from ‘Interview With An Assassin’_

Time. Edwin couldn’t remember ever before spending so much – ha – time, reflecting upon the nature of it, particularly the taunting flexibility of the speed with which it passed. He sat by the fire which kept burning at the center of the pocket plane’s campsite, staring into it, not really seeing it. Had anybody put wood on it? He couldn’t remember, but then it wasn’t exactly a natural fire, now was it? The wizard absently dug his nails into the palms of his hands, the sharp pain a distraction from his own thoughts. He’d always been both proud of and pleased with his own mental agility, but right now he almost wished he’d been as dull-witted as most mundane people, with a mind unable to come up with a thousand and one horrific scenarios, each one worse than the last, which might befall the two people he was waiting for. 

_The fire is still burning. Surely that means she is still alive. If the fire goes out it’s all over._

If the fire went out, the pocket-plane, a construct created from his lover’s growing divine aspect, would surely collapse around him. An entirely suitable way to go, Edwin felt. If she was lost, the world _should_ collapse and implode.   
Then there was the other horrible worry gnawing at his insides. He made himself unclench his hands and touched the amulet hanging around his throat. Still cold, still dark, but with a tiny flickering light deep within, as it had been for entirely too long now. 

_I’m so sorry. I should have come sooner. Please, don’t leave me._

Words not spoken, but no less honest. Insufferable curled up in the palm of his hand, hugging his index finger with his soft, leathery little hands and watching him with sad, dark eyes. Edwin sighed and petted the familiar, too sick with worry to manage more communication than that. At least the others were leaving him alone, they’d given up on their annoying attempts to engage him in conversation some hours ago and retreated to their bunks in the wagons assembled around the campfire. How anybody could contemplate resting under these circumstances was entirely beyond him, but at least it meant he didn’t have to deal with Imoen’s and Minsc’s inane ‘reassuring’ remarks. At least Sarevok and Viconia had sense enough to avoid that, thank the Gods for small mercies. He winced slightly as he shifted his position – he’d been sitting motionless for so long that his back was a dull throbbing furnace of pain, and even that small movement made him feel lightheaded. How long had it been since he’d eaten? But no, the thought of food still made him feel nauseous. He would simply have to…

There was a sound, just on the edge of his hearing, a faint humming, gradually growing louder. The fire seemed brighter than before, with a hot white core in its center. He touched the amulet again, for reassurance. Had it been quite that cold before? He glared angrily at the dark red gem, willing it to change, to show him a flicker of light. It had to. It would. Any moment now. 

And right then a portal formed fully within the fire, and two people tumbled out of it. Zaerini’s eyes were wild, her face tearstreaked, her hair disheveled, but she seemed unharmed. Dekaras was…

Edwin’s thoughts froze to a glacial pace. He saw, but he seemed unable to comprehend what he was seeing, because it was so utterly wrong. _This isn’t real. Yes, that explains everything. I have fallen asleep and I’m having a nightmare._

“Edwin!” Zaerini cried out, and her voice had a sharp and desperate edge to it. “I’m…he’s…get Vic!” She looked around desperately. “VIC! Help!” 

Edwin blinked, and then there were suddenly people all around, noisy and full of jerky, swift movement and action. He stood motionless as chaos unfolded around him and the world splintered and shattered, his feet felt glued to the ground and he couldn’t look away. Viconia was kneeling down next to the broken body on the ground. She irritably shook her long white hair out of her face, then spat out a Drow curse in-between healing spells. Somewhere, close by, somebody was sobbing quietly. 

“Wizard!” Viconia snapped. “Get over here, now!”

He stumbled forward on wobbly legs. It felt as if the world had slowed down to a crawl around him, as if he were trying to move through a morass of freezing sludge. _Not real._   
There was a stinging pain across his cheek, and then a pair of angry red eyes staring into his. 

“Pay attention!” Viconia said, her nose almost touching his. “We’re running out of time, fast. Regular healing isn’t working. Do you have a lightning spell? A wand may work, but a spell is better. Answer!”

He nodded, mutely, holding up his hands in reply, unable to get any proper words out. His tongue felt like a dry, shriveled lump in his mouth. 

“Right. Do exactly what I tell you, exactly _when_ I tell you. Put your hands on his chest.” Edwin knelt down, wincing as he touched cold, clammy skin. “One there. One lower down…more to the left. There.” Viconia turned around to face the others. “Everybody clear, now.” She looked at Edwin again. “Now.” 

He didn’t pause, didn’t think, didn’t argue or question. It was a simple enough spell, a low-grade Shock spell he’d only memorized because it might be useful to get some irritating person’s attention and then almost forgotten about. The magic shot out of him, arcing and coursing through the lifeless body beneath his trembling hands in a sharp current, making it jolt. 

“Move,” Viconia said, shoving Edwin aside with a sharp elbow to his side. She bent closer down, her hair sweeping across Dekaras chest as she leant her ear against it and touched her dark fingers to the side of his neck in what seemed to Edwin like a twisted parody of a lover’s caress. “Good.” She sat up again and began casting another healing spell. 

“W-what is happening?” That was Imoen, her voice tiny and frightened. “Is he…”

“Don’t interrupt,” Viconia said, not looking up. “That got his heart going, but it could stop again at any time unless I get him stabilized.” She cast another spell, and another. “There. That’s all I can do, for now.”

Edwin made himself look, tried to look past the swirling grey dots in front of his eyes. Dekaras didn’t look much better than he had, but there was the hint of his chest rising and falling slowly. 

“I’ll…do what I can too,” Zaerini offered. “It’s only what little healing I get from Bhaal, but it’s better than nothing, right? And…I could try to find Jaheira, and Anomen. They’ll help.”

“You misunderstand me,” Viconia said. “More magic won’t help him right now, even if I do have to replenish my spells. But healing also takes it out of the body, and the body needs to reenergize, or I won’t be doing him any good. He is still in a very delicate state. Try to make him as warm and comfortable as you can while I rest, and then we will just have to hope that you got him to me before there was any irreversible brain damage.” 

Slowly, gently, the dots flowed together into a rising tidal wave of dark oblivion, and all sound faded away as Edwin’s legs folded up underneath him and the ground rose up to meet him. 

-*-

It was later that evening, and Edwin was once again sitting by the fire. This time, however, it wasn’t the fire he was watching. Dekaras had been wrapped in blankets and placed as close to the fire as was safe, and Edwin was sat next to him. He was afraid to look away, or even to blink, for fear that if he did, his father would just noiselessly slip away. But no, he was still breathing. The assassin’s face was pale, and utterly still. 

“You can’t go,” Edwin whispered. “It’s not allowed.” 

He remembered what Viconia had said earlier and shuddered briefly. _I have done what I can for now, and now it will require his own reserves of strength to work for a while before I can do more. He was fit and able-bodied before all this, but he has been starved and tortured for quite some time, and it has left its mark. Were he ten years younger I would be less concerned, but…_

_He is not old!_ Edwin had shot back, outraged on Dekaras’ behalf. 

_I didn’t say so_ , Viconia had said, her voice unusually mild. That mildness made the icy fangs of fear dig even deeper into Edwin’s insides, particularly when he saw the quick look she exchanged with Zaerini. _But as it is, he is still in grave danger. Let me know if there is any change, for better or worse._

His lover had sat with him for quite some time, wordlessly holding his hand and cuddling against his shoulder. Eventually he’d asked her to get some rest. She had been through a lot herself that day, and the last thing he wanted was for her to fall ill as well. As for himself, he would watch, alone, and wait. It was what he needed to do. 

_I need to help. Surely, there must be something I can do._

He watched, and waited, and it wasn’t entirely the fire which made his eyes red and painfully hot. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have cared for the idea of anybody seeing that, but this was as far from normal circumstances as it got. His mind…simply couldn’t wrap itself around the idea of Dekaras dying. He had always been there. He was supposed to be there. Anything else was as wrong and unacceptable as dry water or the sun not rising in the morning. 

“I won’t let it happen,” He whispered to the unconscious man in front of him. “I won’t.” 

Viconia’s previous words kept bouncing around inside his head, and he kept toying with them, turning them over and poking them, now from this side, now from the other. Perhaps…yes, perhaps there was something he could do after all? The more he thought about it, the more it made sense, perfect, perfect sense. What else had all the effort, the concentration and fine honing of his own magnificent mind been for, if he could not use them to save his father’s life? Clearly it was meant to be. 

_I will save you. You’ll see._

Edwin thought about his plan some more, but no, he could see no possible drawbacks. He knew what he was doing this time, he was certain of it. He’d been very careful, using his spare moments to research how it was supposed to work. Part of him had even hoped, foolishly perhaps, that he might use it to keep his beloved’s attention after her ascension. She was fated to become a Goddess, he knew it now, destined to leave him behind, despite the most powerful magic at his disposal. He couldn’t ask her not to, he couldn’t ask her to give all of that up, for him. No, he would just have to settle for keeping her as long as he could, and then keep the memories. His father though…

_I won’t lose you too. Not yet. Not like this._

Edwin carefully looked around, but no, nobody was watching. They had all gone to get some rest, and he could do what needed to be done without interference. He got to his feet, wincing at the ache in his cramped legs, and tottered over to his pack. He searched it carefully, until his fingers finally found the item he was searching for. Yes, here it was. He took it out, and with a curious sense of detachment he noticed that his fingers weren’t trembling at all now. 

_It has to be because I’ve made my mind up. Yes, that has to be it._

He slowly walked back to where Dekaras lay, his feet making little noise against the soft ground of the dark forest. 

_Look at me, Father. Are you proud?_

As he unfurled the scroll, another idea struck him. He touched his amulet, and yes, there was a sense of warmth to it once again. Before leaving for Thay, his Father had told him…what was it? 

_It allows you to memorize more spells than you normally could, as you already know. But it should also be possible for you to draw on my own magical source as well, bypassing the severed connection for when you require some extra power._

Of course, Edwin had refused to do so, or even to try, until now. It had felt…intrusive, wrong. However, this was a state of emergency, and he was certain Dekaras would understand, and even encourage this. As if in agreement with this thought, the dull red fire within the amulet flickered brighter. He could feel it, a narrow trickle at first, then a stream, deep and strong. It was making his head rush, and he had to take a deep breath to steady himself. With this amount of magical energy, he couldn’t possibly fail. Directing the borrowed power, merging it with his own, he started reading the spell, the runes on the scroll glowing faintly as he spoke the proper words. It was complex, yes, but it was working, he could feel it taking shape according to his will. _I will do this!_ The spell, now fully formed, was carefully aimed, and then released. There was a great surge of power, which took his breath away and almost drove him to his knees. Yes, this was old magic, deep and strong magic, and he had done it! He had actually done it! 

Shaking his head to clear the ringing from his ears, Edwin stepped closer to the fire, giddy with pride at his accomplishment. He leaned forward, a beaming smile on his lips. He saw what he had done, and he screamed in horror. 

-*-

Sleep hadn’t come easily. Zaerini had tossed and turned for quite some time, and once she finally managed to fall asleep it was uneasy and fitful. She’d been drifting in and out of it for a bit, trying and failing to get some proper rest, when something woke her as suddenly as if she’d had a bucket of icy water to the face. It had been a noise, a strangled, half-choked noise, trying to be a scream and coming out as more of a whine. It had been Edwin, and she sat bolt upright, her heart trying to hammer its way out of her chest, her lungs gasping for air. The wagons she’d created were comfortable enough, and always just the right size, with personalized touches for each member of her party. Right now, it felt cramped though, and entirely too hot. 

The door opened, and Edwin was standing in the doorway, his hands desperately clutching the doorframe as if he’d keel over if he let go. His mouth was partially open, still emitting a keening, desperate whine, and his eyes were wild. He looked as if he’d gone spinning so far beyond reason and sanity that he’d come out on the far side of insanity where giant tentacle monsters roamed between cold stars. Zaerini’s stomach twisted painfully as she realized what must surely have happened. 

“Oh Gods…Eddie…” She breathed. “Vadrak. Is he…”

For a second, she thought her lover was crying. His shoulders were shaking, and he was making a jittery, broken noise. Then she heard it wasn’t sobs, it was laughter, horrible hysterical giggling. “Ah…ha…I tried to help,” The wizard wheezed, his eyes nearly bulging from his head as he seemed be looking at something only he could see. He staggered forward, grasping her shoulders, his fingers painfully digging into her flesh. “Heh…I tried. I did. He’s alive. Only…only…” The broken, stuttering giggles resumed. 

Rini blinked. “Edwin?” She said, as a nasty suspicion overtook her. “Just how did you try to help?” The sinking feeling of impending doom as she spoke her next words was ironically enough one Dekaras might have told her he was intimately familiar with, as much as with the words themselves. “Just what did you _do_?”

Her lover tottered towards the door, dragging her along by the hand, and out of the wagon into the still dark night of the pocket plane. There were the normal forest noises, and now and then the somewhat less normal ones which she thought her mind had added to make things more interesting. Nobody else seemed to be awake yet. She squinted in the direction of the fire, where they had left Dekaras. He still seemed to be present and accounted for, but there was something…a trick of the light, surely? She walked closer, and then stopped, aghast. _No. Surely not…_

“Edwin,” She said, in a flat, toneless voice. “You didn’t. Please tell me you didn’t use the Nether Scroll again.” 

“I…have been studying it closely this time,” The wizard admitted, by now in tears. “I…I…I was so certain I knew how to work it properly. You remember how I told you before that it could potentially grant life eternal? And when Viconia said that he was still in severe danger, and if he were only ten years younger…”

“Ten years YOUNGER? He doesn’t look to be even ten years OLD!”

She made an effort to lower her voice, not wanting to wake the still unconscious child wrapped in the blankets on the ground. Gods, he’s so small. She couldn’t seem to keep herself from staring. Black hair tumbled across the boy’s pale forehead, tangled and dusty, and his eyes were tightly closed. She squinted again, trying to superimpose more familiar features onto the immature face. Maybe, if she looked at him from the right angle. It wasn’t easy to tell, but she had no reason to doubt Edwin on this, unfortunately. _Now what do we do? And just how do we explain this to him when he wakes up?_

“Please tell me you can fix this,” She whispered. “Edwin?”

The wizard gave her a helpless, pleading look. “I…I don’t know. I thought I did know, and I did this! If I try to fix it, I might make it worse.”

“Well we’d better figure out a way, before…oh crap.” 

The child was stirring, muttering something unintelligible. He sighed, once. Black eyes opened to stare at both of them in blank incomprehension, and he tried to sit up, crouching under the blanket. “Who are you?!” He demanded, giving the wizard and the bard a hostile glare. “Where am I?”

Zaerini just about had time to prop Edwin up before the wizard fainted again. 

-*-

_Is this real, or another nightmare? Or some kind of game?_ Vadrak Dekaras stared at the strange people standing over him – or hovering over him, in the case of the odd Red Wizard – as he tried to make sense of what was going on. _What’s the last thing I remember?_ Going to bed, last night, at the Assassin’s Guild. What had he done the day before? His memories were…fuzzy. But he didn’t think anything out of the ordinary had happened, so there was no obvious reason why he should be here, wherever here was. A dark forest, with tall trees, and occasionally twinkling pixie lights flashing through the darkness, creaking branches and glinting eyes in the bushes. Wind in the treetops, and brief snatches of distant singing. That told him little enough, and the people were all complete strangers. 

The pale and shaking Red Wizard looked more than a little ill, and his fingers kept twitching nervously as if he was trying to reach out and then checking himself just in time. Dekaras had carefully edged back towards the fire to stay away from the man. He didn’t much like the way the wizard was looking at him, as if he were either a monster or a prized possession. It was creepy, to say the least. The redheaded halfelf woman also kept staring at him with wide eyes of a strange yellow color, but she seemed saner even if that wasn’t saying much. Then more people turned up, one after the other, each one of them stopping and staring at Dekaras when they saw him until he had to make an effort not to show how uncomfortable he felt by squirming. There was a Drow woman, who took a few quick steps towards the wizard, grasped him by the shoulder and scowled angrily. She was just about to say something when the redhead nudged her, and she held her words back. The girl with the pink hair was looking at him as if he’d grown a second head, and then…

“No!” He whispered, struggling to his feet. His legs felt weak and wobbly, as if he’d been sick, like…like…back then. “No! I won’t go back. I won’t.” He looked around wildly, for a means of escape, away from all of them, but especially from the two men who had just come out of a wagon. One of them was a tall man with fairly dark skin, and the same golden eyes as the redhead, but the other one…”No!” 

The tattoos were immediately recognizable for what they were, even if he couldn’t tell what clan they belonged to. There was a great sword strapped to the man’s back, and even if he couldn’t see the Witch yet, she had to be near. They always were. “Leave me alone!” He snatched up one of the burning branches, hating how much he sounded like a frightened child. “I’ll kill you if you try anything.” 

He knew very well that it was an empty threat, at least right now, out in the open like this when all of them surrounded him. Therefore, it was very strange how aghast they all looked at him. The wizard even looked as if he were about to cry. 

“Woah!” The redheaded girl said, holding her empty hands out in a gesture of peace. “Minsc, could you stay back a bit, please?” 

“Yes, Little Rini. Minsc is sorry if he frightened the little boy.”

“I’m not little,” Dekaras snapped. “And I’m not scared of you.” 

That was another lie, but at least he wasn’t openly challenged on it. The redhead motioned for them all to step back a couple of paces. _She’s the leader. And if she commands him, she’s the Witch. She has to be. But she’s a half-elf, and she doesn’t sound right. She’s not from Rasheman. It doesn’t make sense._

“Look,” She said, crouching down in front of the boy. “I…guess this must all be terribly confusing. You’ve got no idea who we are, I guess.” Behind her, the wizard made a small, whimpering noise. “I’m not going to lie and pretend everything’s ok. It’s a huge mess, really. But let’s start small. I know Minsc is from Rasheman, but he won’t do anything bad to you. None of us will.”

“Why should I trust you?” He demanded. “I don’t know you, and I don’t want to be here. I want to go home.”

She winced slightly. “Yeah. About that…it’s complicated to explain.” Something passed between her and the others. He watched them carefully, trying not to let on that he was doing so. Observe, learn their weaknesses, and then wait until the right time came. That was the thing to do. They hadn’t killed him yet, or even tried to restrain him. _Let’s see if I can make them sorry about that._

“Try,” He flatly stated, pulling the blanket closer around himself. He didn’t seem to be wearing very much under it, and what he was wearing seemed to be rags – and entirely too large for him at that. But he wasn’t in any pain, so they hadn’t beaten him in order to bring him here. _Poison maybe? Some sort of spell?_

“Well…um…” She hesitated. “I don’t really want to lie about it. You deserve better. But I don’t think I can tell the full truth either. Ugh, now I know how Gorion must have felt. My Dad. He had a pretty big secret he kept hidden from me, and I didn’t like it much when I found out. He had reasons though, and he was doing it for my sake. So. Anyway. I need to think a bit about how much we can explain, without doing any more damage.” For some reason she gave the Red Wizard a sharp look at that, and the man practically withered. “Tell you what, why don’t you have a seat by the fire in the meantime. Hungry? We’ve got food. And we should try to find you something to wear too. Immy, think maybe one of your old tunics would fit until we can get something better? I mean, I could try to conjure something but I’m not sure if it’d last if it’s brought out of here.”

“Right you are, Rini,” The pink girl said, sounding startled. She was still staring at him. “I’ll go look right away.” She darted off towards one of the wagons.

“I will fetch something nutritious,” The Drow woman said. “Hot food would be best, I think, but nothing too heavy after…” She checked herself and fell silent. “Clear broth, perhaps.”

“Broth?” Dekaras doubtfully said. He wasn’t especially hungry, but…broth?

“Eddie, come with me,” The redhead said, taking the Red Wizard’s arm in a firm grasp. “We need to go have a little talk. Minsc, see if you can find something to keep our…guest entertained, would you? And Sarry, please keep an eye on him until we get back.” 

The tall, dark man with the glowing eyes gave Dekaras a disapproving look, and then scowled at the slight redhead. “Really, sister? Sarevok, the Terror of the Sword Coast, reduced to a babysitter?”

“Well, he’s not exactly a baby, now is he?” She grinned at the man, yellow eyes reflecting the light of the fire like a cat’s. “Think of it as a challenge.” She walked off with the wizard in tow before Sarevok had time to utter any further protest. 

Man and boy watched each other cautiously for a moment. “I don’t need looking after,” Dekaras finally stated. “I can take care of myself.” He idly poked at the ground with a half-burnt stick which had fallen out of the fire. There were old ashes as well, mixed in with the dirt on the ground. So, this was a long-term camp, but why out in the middle of the forest? Who were these people, and just what did they want with him? Not the _Wychlaran_ or they wouldn’t be letting him off this lightly. Not child-sellers, he didn’t think, why would such people bother with telling him elaborate lies? Still, there was definitely something they weren’t telling him, and he wasn’t willing to trust that whatever they were planning was something he’d agree to.

“Heh,” The man, Sarevok, said, sitting down by the fire. He smiled a small, slightly bitter smile. “I used to feel that way, at your age.” 

“So?”

“I was partially right, but I was wrong as well. I trusted the wrong people, my sire especially. That was a bad mistake, he was only using me for his own ends.”

“Oh,” Dekaras said, swallowing quickly. There was a sensation of burning bile at the back of his throat and he had to dig the stick harder into the ground in order to keep focused. _Don’t think. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about Before._ “Well, I won’t be doing that.” He shook his head. “I don’t really trust anybody, anymore. Or only one person, but she’s not here.” For a moment, he regretted admitting even that much, but then again, what harm could it do? Better to be clear about things than have them think him an easy, trusting target. 

“A friend? Sister?”

“Friend.” 

Sarevok nodded. “When you cannot trust many people, the ones you can matter all the more.”

“Your sister?” Dekaras guessed and was rewarded with seeing the large man blink in surprise. 

“Yes,” Sarevok admitted. “Both of them, I suppose.” 

“They don’t look much like you.” 

“We share a father but have different mothers. It is a long story. Ah, speak of the devil.”

The pink haired girl sidled up to them and smiled awkwardly. “Um, hi,” She said, her hands folded behind her back as if she were hiding something. “So, uh, I’m Imoen. This is so weird. Are you feeling OK?”

“I can’t remember what happened yesterday, I don’t know where I am or why, and I’ve been abducted by a group of crazy strangers,” Dekaras snapped. “My life couldn’t be any better, thanks for asking.” 

“Right, sorry. Anyway, at least I found you something to wear, for until we can get something better. It was the smallest thing I had, but I’m afraid it’ll still be a bit big.” She took her hands out from behind her back and held out a Thing. Dekaras stared at it in mute horror. 

“No,” He said. “Absolutely not.” 

“Aw, come on! It’s my favourite colour, and it’s the only thing which will fit you. Besides, you’ll look great in pink, I just know it!” 

“No!” 

“You may as well,” Sarevok said, chortling. “She never gives up. Also, you will be able to move around more easily if you’re wearing something better than a blanket and some filthy rags. Speaking of which, you probably want to have a bath at some point.”

“I’ll help!” Imoen brightly offered. 

“NO!” 

“Huh, I bet I can get you to change your mind. But fine.” She turned her back. “Go on, I won’t peek.” 

Inwardly cringing, Dekaras took the offered article of clothing and gingerly slipped it on while trying to touch it as little as possible. He had to admit that she had a point, he needed something to wear, and even if the tunic reached almost down to his knees it was warm and comfortable enough once he rolled the sleeves up. He just wished it wasn’t so…pink. It was a vivid, nearly glowing shade which made his head hurt. 

“All done?” Imoen asked. “Can I see?” She turned around again. “Awww, that’s awesome! I knew it’d suit ya!” She squealed with delight and ruffled his hair. 

_Oh, now I know where I am. I’m dead, and this is the lowest of the Nine Hells._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that just happened! Still, not to worry. I'm sure Edwin will get it right...eventually.


	17. The Great Escape

**Throne Of Cards 17 – The Great Escape**

_Never forget to observe your surroundings properly. A small and seemingly insignificant detail may provide you with an escape route, or even an improvised weapon. Always remember that it pays to look beneath the surface. Secrets can be hidden in plain sight, and a harmless appearance can deceive even the clever._

_Excerpt from ‘Interview With An Assassin’_

Vadrak Dekaras hadn’t expected this escape to be as complicated as it had turned out to be. Grownups never tended to monitor children quite this closely, not even at the Guild where the whole point was to teach them how to cause trouble. He’d planned to put these strangers who had abducted him at their ease by appearing calm and docile, but that seemed to have made them watch him all the harder. One of them was always close by, every moment. 

_Really, what do these brave, strong adventurers think a poor little child like me could possibly do to them?_

Quite a lot, of course, but they were not supposed to know that. Then again, they had to know something, or else why abduct him in the first place? It was a mystery, and one he thought he’d better find out the answer to as quickly as possible. So. Not the Witches of Rasheman, or they’d already be hauling him back there. The berserker seemed a bit odd, maybe he was an outcast too? And the redheaded woman he called his Witch, she was not from Rasheman at all, and that was unheard of. She was still gone, away with the Red Wizard somewhere. And that was another puzzle, a Red Wizard traveling with a Rasheman berserker and his Witch. Could _he_ be a renegade? But no, he wore the colours, and proudly. That magerobe had been of the highest quality, and what few little tears there were had been carefully mended, and the magical runes embroidered along the hems spoke of skill and pride. The accent had been from the eastern part of the country, but Dekaras wasn’t as yet familiar enough with all the regions that he could tell precisely which city. A nobleman, yes that was obvious, even with his lack of composure, but then most Red Wizards were nobles. And his head not shorn, despite being a powerful Red Wizard, which meant he or his family were powerful enough that he didn’t need to conform to that custom if he didn’t want to. So why had this powerful wizard looked so shocked at the sight of him, Dekaras? That was the part he didn’t understand yet, because surely, they would all know they had abducted him? 

The Drow woman, Viconia, was less mysterious. There weren’t many Drow in the surface lands, but there were some, even one in the Guild back home. Only a powerful one would survive long enough to even make it out of the Underdark, and the ones who did, and who managed to thrive…well it wouldn’t do to underestimate her. 

The remaining humans then, Sarevok and Imoen. Supposedly both siblings to the halfelf, and none of them looked remotely alike apart from the strange golden eyes shared by Sarevok and his absent sister. A warrior of course, but not a brainless thug, no. Dangerous. And Imoen, for all her fondness for horrible pink, was not to be underestimated either. He had seen the way she moved, and she was definitely a trained rogue. Something…familiar in how she shifted her weight from one foot to the other as she silently padded around the campsite, in the way she kept her eyes on the shadows. It wasn’t identical to how they were taught to do it at the Guild, but similar, as if she’d been trained by one of his own teachers but also picked things up elsewhere. She was definitely not from Thay though, so how could that be? 

_Focus. You need to escape, that’s the important thing._

He hadn’t managed to get his hands on a weapon yet, even though he’d had a few promising ideas in that direction once he’d seen Imoen fiddling with a bag which looked entirely too deep and roomy for its size. _A Bag of Holding. A Bag of Holding belonging to a group of very powerful, very wealthy adventurers. How interesting._

He’d gone along agreeably enough to Imoen’s bright pink wagon, and he’d climbed into the bunk bed without protests when they told him he ought to get some sleep. It was big enough that Imoen could have fit in there as well, but she’d opted to sleep on the low couch along the window instead, curling up and wrapping herself in her blankets. Not wanting to crowd him? He appreciated that, for what it was worth. The thought of being so close to one of his abductors made him shiver slightly and Imoen gave him a worried look. He sighed and settled down in the bed, made himself be as still as he knew how and made his breathing go slower and deeper. Slow, careful. Not sleep, but close enough. Time passed. He peeked through his eyelashes, and yes, Imoen’s eyes were closed as well, but it was too soon, he couldn’t risk it yet. More time passed, and yes, now she was snoring softly. It could be a trick, but he didn’t think so. He moved, slowly, slowly, edging out of the bed, and she didn’t move, didn’t react. Almost at the door now. He’d have to pass on the Bag of Holding, but that couldn’t be helped, getting away was the important thing. A quick peek through the door, not quite opening it, and there was Sarevok by the fire, keeping watch.

Not good. At least it wasn’t Viconia, he didn’t think he was good enough to get past Drow hearing – yet. Sarevok was watching Imoen’s wagon steadfastly, but at some point, he’d have to stretch, or move, or even get up to relieve himself. Dekaras would just have to be patient. _Wait for it. Wait._ Too bad he didn’t have any of his own things, some of the chemicals from the potions lab last week could have had a very interesting effect on the fire. Aha, there. Sarevok was getting to his feet, rubbing his back and neck, and he’d taken his eyes off the door. _Now._ Quickly, quietly, the boy slipped through the door, then into the shadows by the side of the wagon. The hideous pink thing he was wearing didn’t exactly help things, but he crouched low and crept under the wagon itself, glad of his small stature. Out the back now, and there, he was clear, and they hadn’t even noticed he was gone. Into the woods he went, working hard at suppressing a giggle. _Full marks, I think._

-*-

Zaerini hadn’t expected that telling Elvira Odesseiron what had transpired would be a pleasant experience. She hadn’t been prepared for quite the full extent of the woman’s wrath though. Not directed at her, at least, but at Edwin, and no matter what she was sure that Elvira wouldn’t actually cause bodily harm to her only child, as tempted as she seemed to be at the moment. The fact that the older woman had slipped into Thayvian at one point during her rant didn’t really make things better, since that meant Rini had to supply her own meaning to the words accompanying the enraged curses. Now and then, Elvira would pause, point a finger at one of the many precious and probably priceless porcelain figurines on the mantelpiece, and make it explode. Rini thought that might be the only thing making her refrain from making Edwin’s head explode, instead. 

“Mother,” Edwin said, his face very pale as he twisted his fingers nervously together inside the sleeves of his robe. “I…I am so sorry. It was inexcusably foolish of me. I assure you; I will make this right.” 

Elvira, in the middle of drawing a deep breath to prepare herself for another tirade, paused. Her black brows knotted together in a frown, and she tapped her perfectly manicured nails against the mantelpiece, looking mildly surprised to see it bare of all the ornaments previously present. “Yes Edwin,” She stated. “You will. But in the meantime, we’ll have to figure out how to deal with this situation. First of all, this Nether Scroll of yours. You thought for certain you had the incantation correct, and yet you clearly overshot the mark. It could have been due to stress – yes Edwin, of course you were under a great deal of stress – but I wonder if it might have been more than that. The ancient mages of Netheril would have guarded their secrets closely, I would think. I think you should have another look at it, but do not experiment again without talking to me, do you understand? Not on Vadrak, and not on yourself either, is that clear?”

“Yes, Mother.” 

“As for the second part of the problem, have you thought about how to deal with Vadrak in…his current state? You do realize, he won’t be particularly compliant.”

“We thought about bringing him here,” Zaerini offered. “He’d be safe here, wouldn’t he?”

Elvira sighed. “He wouldn’t have any idea who I am, I’m afraid. We didn’t meet until much later. As it is I…would simply be another Red Wizard, and he’d have no particular reason to trust me. It would be only a matter of time before he ran away, I’m sure, despite my best precautions. Speaking of which, you are having him closely watched, I hope?”

“Oh yeah. Our friends are right there, and besides, in that place he could only run for so far.” 

“Good. You will simply have to keep a close eye on him and try to win his trust. Not that it will be easy, you understand, but I have an idea that might help. Something that might help make him listen to what you say without telling a truth I’m not willing to burden him with just now.” 

Rini listened to the explanation, feeling a glimmer of hope. She wondered that she hadn’t thought of it herself, but then again, she’d been almost as shocked as Edwin had been. Speaking of Edwin, he was smiling tremulously as his mother spoke, a sense of relief in his eyes for the first time in so long. 

“I will see to it at once, Mother,” He said. 

“Good,” Elvira said, reaching up to give him a peck on the cheek. “Oh dear, you have grown so tall, haven’t you? Now, be careful darling, and get this sorted out promptly, would you?” She smiled sweetly. “Or I may get it into my head to use your personal chambers when I feel the need to let my frustrations out. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

“Er…no, of course not, Mother.” 

“That’s my good boy. Run along now and let me know if there is anything I can do to help.”

-*-

There was something very odd about this place, Dekaras thought to himself as he slipped quietly through the dark forest. Not the forest itself, with its brief snatches of laughter in the distance or winking little eyes between the trees. It reminded him of…of Before, actually. Of what the forests had been like in Rasheman, where everything seemed somehow more alive than anywhere else. So no, that wasn’t it. But the stars in the sky, what he could make out of them between the treetops, the stars were all wrong. They didn’t match any of the constellations he knew, at all. Just how far could his abductors have taken him in a single night, without even waking him up? Maybe they’d used a teleport spell of some sort, but again it begged the question, ‘why’. Why? Why waste so much time, so many resources, on him? If these people could access the Guild so freely, there were far more important targets than him. It wasn’t as if he mattered…well, maybe to Poppy, but she wouldn’t abduct him. There was a quick stab of pain at the thought of his Best Friend. She might have noticed he was missing by now. She might be getting worried. At least she was safe at home. That was important. 

And here was another oddity. He’d been walking in a straight line; he was quite sure of it. But even so, there was the glint of a fire through the trees ahead, and he froze, peering ahead. 

_No. It can’t be._

But it was the campsite, and judging by the swift, jerky movements from the people around the fire, they’d noticed him missing by now. He turned around again, hurrying to put some distance between him and the strangers, and took particular care to use landmarks this time. It didn’t matter much which direction he was headed, as long as it was away from them. He walked stubbornly on, and he was starting to get quite tired by now, his bare feet also protesting from traversing the rough ground. _Ignore it. Keep going._

And he did – right up until the moment when he stumbled and stopped, staring with wide eyes at the fire and the campsite in front of him. _Impossible!_ No. That wasn’t it. It was happening, not a nightmare. So, what would be causing this? A spell? There were spells which could confuse people, but wouldn’t he have felt something? Magic was…was like rough fingernails scraping across the sore and raw place inside his head, was a scream inside the echoing emptiness. There was…a sense of distant magic yes, but not a proper spell, not directed at him at least. For now, he needed to try something else. If he could not run away from the abductors, the next thing to do was to hide. Perhaps they’d give up eventually and move on without him. And if he could not go in a straight line…he could at least go up. 

The tree was not that difficult to climb, and he was after all good at climbing. Still, he was tired by now, and he heaved a sigh of relief as he settled down and wedged himself between two sturdy branches. He should not be able to fall down from here, even if he happened to fall asleep, though he would try not to. It was almost like sitting in a chair, and he could lean his back against the tree trunk. Warmer clothes would have been nice though, he thought as he resigned himself to rubbing his cold legs with his hands to try to get a sense of warmth back into them. The anxious voices from the campsite sounded more distant now, so they’d gone off looking for him and gone in the wrong direction. For a moment he thought about sneaking back in to investigate that promising Bag of Holding, but no. One of them might have stayed behind. It was far safer to remain here. _If only it wasn’t so cold._ He curled up as best he could, trying not to shiver. _Just be patient. They’ll go away and leave you alone eventually and then you can go home._ He tried to comfort himself with that thought, and to ignore the thought that this forest didn’t seem to want to let him go anywhere. Then, there was a small thump as something soft and warm landed on his lap, and a pair of glittering eyes looked up at him. He choked back a startled gasp before he saw what it was. A cat, just a black cat, and…and there was another, tiny animal clinging to the cat’s back. A minute monkey, with fluffy fur and a cheeky grin on its wrinkled little face. The boy didn’t know it, but he was smiling as he extended a hand and the cat rubbed herself against his palm. The monkey deftly scurried up along his arm to settle itself on his shoulder, burrowing under his chin. The cat settled down on his lap with an air of calm ownership, and he tentatively stroked the sleek fur. Soft and warm, yes. It helped against the cold, a little. And it felt…nice. He settled into a rhythm, the cat’s soft purrs making him yawn despite himself. The monkey was busying itself with tugging on a strand of his hair, but it didn’t hurt, at all. He relaxed a bit more, the cat closely nestled in his arms. Yes. He wouldn’t mind staying like this, for a while. 

-*-

“You lost track of him?!” Edwin paced back and forth by the campfire, wringing his hands. “How could you possibly…there are four of you, and not a one was capable enough to properly monitor him? (My stomach…the acid is rising again.)” 

“Sorry…” Imoen said, slightly sheepishly. “I could have sworn he was fast asleep. I guess I should have remembered how we used to fool Gorion that way, huh Rini?”

“Well,” Rini said with a small sigh. “From what Poppy told us, you’re probably lucky he just ran away and didn’t slit your throat. Maybe you impressed him more than you think. Anyway, it’s not as bad as you think. No Eddie, really it isn’t. You’re forgetting I made this place. He can’t get out of it without me opening a portal, so we’ll find him, and he can’t open any portals of his own to anywhere more dangerous than this forest.” She closed her eyes briefly, as the presence of her familiar tickled the edge of her consciousness. "Ah. Got him. “”

Edwin exhaled deeply with relief at the same time. “Yes. Insufferable is also there. He is unharmed.” 

“That’s marvelous news,” Sarevok said. “Can we go back to the ‘you’re lucky he didn’t slit your throats’ part? Before you make me babysit again?”

“Basically,” Edwin rattled off as he set off into the woods. “Going by what Auntie Poppy told us, don’t turn your back on him, don’t let him get into your things, don’t let him get into the food, don’t ever let him get near to anything that can be rigged to explode or be set on fire, and don’t let him touch any remotely magical item because he’s bound to do something reckless and potentially suicidal with it.”

“Very well,” Viconia blandly said. “It should be no great difference from your own company, then.” 

The wizard looked as if he was about to offer a snappy retort to that, but instead he just stalked off, muttering something to himself about how there was no time to waste. Rini followed him, her familiar giving her directions along the way. 

_Now, be gentle_ , Softpaws warned her as she was getting closer. _Don’t frighten the kitten._

_I’ll try not to. Is he ok?_

_Oh yes, just a bit cold and hungry._ There was a sense of mild distaste to the cat’s mental voice. _The monkey suggested fetching him larvae to eat as there are no nuts or fruit here. I told him a nice fresh squirrel would be better, I’m sure I can hear them nearby._

_Thanks Softy, but I think human food would be better. We’re nearly there anyway._

_I hope you’ve kept up with your climbing._

_Why would…oh._

The tree was quite tall, and she didn’t think she’d have spotted their errant charge if not for the vivid pink of Imoen’s old tunic. He was curled up between some thick branches, and from the way his head was lolling to one side seemed quite deeply asleep. The black cat was on his lap, draping herself across it like a small furry blanket, and Rini could just make out a quick movement on top of his head and the glint of little black eyes as Insufferable peered down at them and chittered happily. The noise made the boy startle, and he looked down at the approaching adventurers with a grimace. 

“Oh,” He said. “You.”

“Us,” Rini agreed. “You want to come down now?”

He thought about this for a moment. “Hm…no.” 

“Look here!” Edwin said, pointing an admonishing finger at the ground. “You have to get down, right now. Those branches don’t look nearly sturdy enough, and I…” He swallowed hard. “And I _order_ you to come down, for your own safety!” 

The boy simply scoffed at that. “Who do you think you are, my father?” 

Edwin sputtered, then yelped with pain as an accurately aimed pinecone struck him square on the nose. 

“And anyway, even if you were, I still wouldn’t come down. I’m staying right here, and I think you’re all too heavy to come after me or you would have already. I don’t think you’ve got a spell to bring me down either, do you? No? Didn’t think so.” 

“Maybe not,” Rini admitted. “But I’ve got something to help me come up. Don’t worry, I won’t try to force you down. I’ve just got something to give you, something you’ll want to see. I’ll stay away while you look at it, I promise.” She slipped a square, white item out of her pocket, then shapeshifted before he had time to protest, and started climbing the tree with the thing in her mouth. _Great. I hope he won’t decide to hit me as well, a fall from up here could really hurt._

-*-

Dekaras couldn’t help watching in fascination as the red cat easily scurried up the tree trunk. There were shapeshifting spells, he knew that, but that…that hadn’t been magic. Not normal magic, at any rate. This was something different, and despite his predicament he was very curious to learn what. _Druid magic? But they still use spells, I think, and she just…changed. What is this?_ The red cat sat down on a branch far away that he could just reach her, but she made no move to change back, simply watching him expectantly. There was something in her mouth, something white. A piece of paper. He slowly reached out for it, prepared to snatch his hand back if she tried to grab him. The red cat remained motionless, golden eyes glowing in the shadows. He unfolded the paper, his eyes widening with shock as he noticed the familiar, sprawling handwriting, and the way every single dot on every single ‘I’ had been made to look like a flower. _Poppy._

_Dekkie_ , the letter started. _You’re wondering why I’m writing this, and the stupid thing is that I can only tell you some of it right now. But you know I’d never lie to my Best Friend, so I’ll tell you what I can. You had kind of a magical accident, not your fault for once, not like that time with the magic ring, or that other time with the dreaming potion, but that’s why you can’t remember what happened or who the people with you are. They’re friends, even if you don’t remember it, so try not to kill them for my sake, ok? For your sake too, if you do you’ll get very sad when you remember. Trust me on that. They’re trying to help you, so go along with them and do more or less what they tell you. But only more or less, because I don’t want you to go crazy. That’s why I can’t come see you either, even if I want to. Once it all gets sorted out, you’ll understand, I promise._

_*Hugs and Kisses*_

_Your Best Friend, Poppy_

_P.S. When you get the chance, I think you should prank the wizard. Just not fatally, ok?_

Dekaras stared at the letter, and then read it through once more. It was definitely Poppy’s handwriting, there could be no mistake. And she hadn’t included the secret code phrase he’d insisted they’d agree on using if ever one of them got kidnapped and forced to contact the other one. So, she wasn’t being threatened in order to write this, but it was very…vague. Still. This was his Best Friend. He could trust her. 

“Fine,” He told the red cat. “I’ll come with you. For now.” 

-*-

_Sometime later…_

“So, making any progress yet?” 

“Yes, and again no,” Edwin sighed as Zaerini sat down next to him on the bed they both shared. The wizard was tightly hunched over the Nether Scroll, and his face looked pinched and worried. She took particular care to slide her hands along his shoulders and give them a good rub. 

“Is there anything I can do to help? You only have to say.” 

“I…ah that feels wonderful, thank you, my Hellkitten.” Edwin sighed again. “Regrettably, I find myself at least partially stumped. I believe I have determined what went wrong when I cast the spell, the vector runes are clearly misaligned, and the temporal algorithm is subtly off as well. It is deliberate too, whoever inscribed the scroll was determined to keep their knowledge a secret. There must be a way to adjust for these deliberate errors, other than trial and error experimentation (Which will not happen, ever again) but so far it eludes me.” 

“Right, so it’s a secret code then?” She peered across his shoulder, not letting up on the massaging and grinned to herself when she heard him give a small groan of delight. _Maybe I shouldn’t distract him – but then again he does need to relax or he’ll make himself sick with worry._

“Mmmm…oh yes, right there. Yes, there is a code of sorts. Here.” Edwin pointed a meticulously manicured fingernail at the top corner of the Nether Scroll. Something had been written there, set apart from the neatly scribed parts of the spell itself and its instructions. The ink was faint, but she could just about make it out. “I did notice it before, faint as it is, but as the spell seemed entirely complete without it I paid it no further attention. That was my fatal mistake.” 

“Hm…” Rini said, looking more closely. “It’s just numbers. What could they mean?”

“That is precisely the problem. I do not know. It is nothing as straightforward as a simple sequence of replacing letters of the alphabet or the order of words in the spell itself, I tried writing it out that way and it turned out as gibberish. Now, as codes and ciphers are not my area of expertise, normally I would consult with Father, but…”

“…but Imoen is teaching him to make a cat’s cradle right now,” Rini filled in. “Yeah, we’ll just have to manage, somehow.”

“Worst of all, I’m starting to have an unpleasant suspicion that there is something missing. Do you see how the numbers are all written down in groups of three? I did not see it at first, but it is there. I fear this may be a book cipher.”

“Right…that’s bad, I take it?”

“A book cipher,” Edwin said in a slightly lecturing voice, “requires the correct book in order to solve it. It will refer to for example page, paragraph and word. It could be another combination as well, such as chapter, paragraph and word. It should be easy enough to solve, once I have the correct book.” His face fell. “Unfortunately, I do not, and there are no clues within the scroll itself as to what it might be.” 

“Well,” Rini said, “maybe I can help after all then. My powers lean towards divination and illusions, remember? I think I’d need to know which book to look for before I could open a portal to it, but maybe the cards can tell me more.” She pulled her deck of cards out of her pocket with a quick flourish. “It’s a pretty specific question, and even if I don’t usually get all that clear answers it should at least point us in the right direction.”

“Yes,” Edwin said, a smile of relief on his face. “I think it would be a good idea to try this, if you feel up to it. Anything to help narrow it down would be helpful.” 

“All right, I’ll give it a go.” She settled herself in as comfortable a position as she could manage, turning around so she could lean back against her lover’s chest and relaxed as he put his arms around her. Warm, safe, comfortable. She let her mind drift, but always with a focus upon the cards in her hand and the question she wanted to ask of them. Her fingers touched them, guided by certainty. _One, two, three. Relax, focus._ The Tower. The High Priest. The Devil. Darkness soared around her and the cards filled the word. 

She was standing on an open plain, where grey clouds rolled across the overcast sky, far faster than they should be since the air was calm and still. The ground felt odd…soft, and squishy. Moist. Zaerini looked down, and nearly gagged. The ground…wasn’t ground at all. It was covered with eyes, wide, enormous staring eyes, and she…she was standing right on top of them. 

“Ew! Ew ew ew!” She yanked her foot up into the air but hopping on one leg didn’t really make it any better, not with the little squelching sounds. _Pretend it’s leaves. Just wet leaves. Don’t look at them._ Gingerly she put her foot down again. The eyes didn’t seem to react at all, no flinching, no blinking. They were looking at her though…all the thousands of black pupils were swiveling and turning towards her, staring at her, observing. “Ok…” She said in as calm a voice as she could manage. “I’m sorry if I offended you. And I’m sorry I’m treading on you, but there’s not exactly anywhere else to stand. I’ll just go and…go and do whatever I’m supposed to do here.” _At least it’s not mouths full of teeth, that would be even worse. Or Gods, imagine if it were giant noses. Giant noses filled with snot…and hair…maybe even flying polyps._ She looked up, and there was something else in the field, a large building. _Not just any building, a tower. The Tower. That’s not a very nice card. Destruction and danger. Please tell me it’s not Durlag’s Tower again, that place was horrible._ It was squat, dark structure, with no windows at all that she could see, and only one door. Zaerini made her way across the field of eyes, towards the dark tower, walking gingerly across the staring eyes. As she approached, she could see two figures standing in front of the tower. A man in grey robes, the hood up to hide his face, and a horned and fanged monstrosity with mottled skin and burning eyes. 

_The High Priest and the Devil. A figure of authority of some sort…and a figure of evil. Are they two different people, or one and the same? I don’t know who they could represent, but I’ve got a feeling finding this book may not be as easy as I’d hoped._

“I come to ask a question,” She said, addressing both man and monster. “You know what the question is, I spoke it in my heart when I spread the cards. You must answer me, as best you can, where I can find the book I seek.” 

“You must come to the Tower,” The grey-robed man spoke in a quiet, sad voice. “I await your coming, you are the only one who can save us all.” 

“Right. Good for you. And the book?”

“I know where that book lies,” The Devil said, baring a mouthful of sharp teeth in what was probably a smile. “I am the only one who can tell you, and I will, for a price.”

The bard shuddered. “Not my soul again, I hope. I went without it once already.”

“Once you come to me, you will learn, Child of Bhaal.” 

“Great. Just lovely.” She turned to the High Priest. “And what about you?”

“I too, have a price you must pay. And so you must, if you wish to enter the Tower and seek the lowest chamber under and above, around and beyond, if you wish to barter with the beast beneath. What is opened, must be closed. What was buried must remain so.”

“If you say so. And where must I go?”

“Look around you, Child of Bhaal,” The High Priest said, his arm making a sweeping gesture. “It is the tower of the thousand and many more eyes. They see all, as He sees all. The Watcher is with us, always.”

“The Watcher?” Rini blinked. “You mean, Helm? Is this place a temple to Helm?”

“Come to us, Child of Bhaal,” The High Priest whispered. “We await you.”

“Come,” The Devil chuckled. “From me, you will hear the truth you seek. As long as you pay the price.” 

The darkness scattered, and as the Devil’s laughter rose to a shrieking crescendo Zaerini could see a thousand and more eyes watching her accusingly. 

-*-

“A temple to Helm, you say?” Viconia frowned. “There are quite a few of those, how can we know which one?” 

“I don’t think it’s just any old temple,” Rini said, thinking back to what she had been told. “It was referred to as the Tower…and I got the idea it’s a big place, with all the talk about ‘lowest chamber’ and so on. Plus, there’s supposed to be something evil there, and we’re not just talking junior acolytes’ unwashed laundry or naughty pictures.” She looked at her friends, all of whom had gathered around the eternally burning fire in the pocket plane’s camp. “So, any ideas?”

Sarevok slowly nodded. “Actually, yes,” He said. “When I was studying the lore and secrets of our sire, I came across many other legends and tales as well. There is a large fortress, to the northwest of Saradush, dedicated to Helm. It is called Watcher’s Keep, and it is guarded by some of the Watcher’s most dedicated followers, the Knights of the Vigil. Supposedly it contains the order’s greatest secrets and treasures.”

“All right…but what about the Devil? Any idea what that means?”

“No,” Sarevok admitted. “There was no mention of any such creature. Perhaps it is another guardian?”

“If it is, it could have been put there to guard the treasures,” Imonen suggested. “It makes kind of sense.”

“Maybe…well in that case it shouldn’t be any trouble for us, we’re not going there to steal the treasures, only to ask it a question.”

“What question?”

Rini startled as Dekaras peered around Minsc’s large frame. She had thought the magically de-aged assassin was fast asleep in the wagon he was sharing with Imoen, had in fact counted on it when she called her friends together for this little meeting. After his little escape earlier, he should have been exhausted. Stop underestimating him. He may not be himself, not with his full training or his memories, but he’s still sneaky. “A question about a book,” She volunteered. She wanted to avoid outright lies if at all possible, and besides she had a feeling he’d probably pick up on them. “An important book. Edwin needs it for magical research, you see.”

“Oh. Are there going to be monsters? I’d quite like to see a dragon, some day. Have you killed any dragons?”

“Yes…a few actually. The trick is to avoid getting in the way of the head…it breathes bad stuff. Doesn’t matter if it’s red, blue or purple, it’s always bad. And you want to be out of the way of the tail as well. And the wings. Actually, for Standard Dragonslaying Tactics, you just don’t want to be close to it, period.”

“And you most certainly will not be!” Edwin interjected, raising an admonishing finger. “We are heading out on an important research trip, not some…dungeon crawl. It is a temple to Helm, not a monster pit, and if it were, I should not be bringing you anywhere near it.” 

The boy simply rolled his eyes at that. “If you insist on being boring, I suppose I can’t stop you. Poppy said I should go with you, so I will.” He smiled sweetly. “I’ll just find some way to entertain myself.”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

“Um…great?” Rini said, feeling a tense knot of worry in the pit of her stomach. “So, I’ll open us a portal to Watcher’s Keep, and we’ll check the place out. The Helmites should be able to tell us more, and if it turns out that it’s not the place we’re looking for we shouldn’t have wasted too much time. Any other thoughts?”

“Minsc is happy that the little boy is eager to go adventuring!” Minsc boomed, patting Dekaras on the shoulder. The boy winced slightly and was about to shrug the large man’s hand off when he spotted the hamster riding on Minsc’s shoulder and stopped to look at it in fascination. “Minsc will make certain to nurture such an eager spirit and teach him all the things he needs to know as he grows up.”

“You will not attempt to pollute his mind with your barbarian ways!” Edwin protested. “He needs no further incitement to rush recklessly into danger.”

“The Sometimes Evil Wizard need not worry, Boo says he has everything covered. He is also most eager to go to this place, see how his whiskers tremble!” 

“He seems very clever,” Dekaras noted with admiration. “And I like the way his eyes glow.” He held his hand out, palm up. “May I hold him?” He turned his head to give Edwin a withering look. “And I don’t rush into danger. Only if I have to.” He carefully stroked the hamster’s fur as a beaming Minsc looked on. “See!” He triumphantly stated. “Boo agrees with me. He told me so.” 

“Oh Gods…” Edwin groaned, covering his face with his palm. “Not him too. Hellkitten, open up that portal as soon as you possibly can, please. We need to get this disaster sorted out before any further sanity points are lost. (Hopefully not permanently)”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not to worry, Rini. It won't be Durlag's Tower. It will be much, much worse than that.


	18. Dungeon Quest

**Throne Of Cards 18 – Dungeon Quest**

_It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a dungeon in possession of a good fortune must be in want of adventurers. A modest supply of Bags of Holding will aid you in this venture, and if the questgivers seem too dodgy to trust I recommend using them for human shields…_

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

The portal was clearly there, and yet it shouldn’t have been. Dekaras couldn’t claim that he had seen any teleportation over long distance spells up close, but at least he knew that it was fairly complicated magic. If you got it wrong, you’d end up in the wrong place, if you were lucky. If you were unlucky, you might end up as the wrong person, or in little pieces scattered all over. And yet, Zaerini had simply nonchalantly waved her hand and a shimmering portal appeared, hanging in midair. Moreover, he hadn’t felt anything. A spell that strong should have made his head hurt a great deal, even little cantrips scraped across the raw emptiness inside. But here, nothing. 

_So, it’s not magic, never mind what it looks like. She can cast spells too, but this is something else. I wonder what else she can do? I hope she knows what she’s doing._

“Don’t worry,” The redhaired woman said, turning to him with a smile. “I know this must seem a bit weird, but I’ve done it before. I’ll get us to the right place.”

“I’m not worried,” He hurried to say. “I’m not a baby, you know.” 

“Sure, sure, I know that. It’s just that it can be a little freaky when you’re not used to it. I know it was for _me_.” 

“Still is for me,” Imoen piped up, smiling down at him. “You could do me a favor actually and grab my hand as we go through. It makes my tummy tumble less if I’ve got somebody solid to hold onto.” 

He hesitated for a moment, but eventually took the offered hand. They’d make him go wherever they were going anyway, so it couldn’t hurt. Besides, the more he thought about it, the harder it was to get the idea out of his head that he’d end up scrambled and wrong somehow as he went through. It was as if there was a tiny part of him inside his head that insisted it could happen, would happen, and had already happened. But that couldn’t be right, because he felt entirely like himself. He clutched Imoen’s hand a little harder, trying to blot out the strange thoughts. She’d been right, it did help. The portal tingled as he went through, and there was a rush of cold, his stomach lurched as strange shapes rushed past too fast to see them properly, and then it was over. He was on solid ground once more, outside and with proper sky above him, and the sun as well. He hadn’t realized until now how that strange, always dark place had made him miss the sun. 

“Thanks,” Imoen told him with another smile. She released his hand and combed her fingers through her messy pink hair. “Phew, feels good to be out doesn’t it? I mean, it’s not that the air in that place is bad as such, but somehow it all feels a little like the inside of a Bag of Holding. Not that I’ve ever been inside one.”

“You’re welcome,” Dekaras said. “Do you think you _could_ go inside a Bag of Holding? Would you fit?”

“Well, they can take big things like suits of armor and weapons, so I don’t see why not. You might go nuts inside though. Or get holes poked in you from all the swords and suits of armor. Then again, they don’t seem to break each other…”

“Don’t. Even. Think about it.” A voice hissed next to Dekaras ear, and when he turned around he found the Red Wizard, Edwin, glaring down at him. “I know you were.” 

“I wasn’t,” He replied in as haughty a voice as he could muster, crossing his arms across his chest as he glared right back up at the tall man. Yes, perhaps the thought had crossed his mind, but he wasn’t about to admit that to the wizard. 

“It is a fascinating and potentially lethal idea involving messing about with magical objects. Of course you were thinking about it. I know _I_ would have thought about it at your age.”

Zaerini cleared her throat. “Pot, kettle, black, Eddie?” She said with a quick grin. “Maybe you’re just jealous he thought of it first.”

“Nonsense!” Edwin sniffed. “I am taking necessary precautions, that is all.” 

“Shall we head out then, sister?” Sarevok suggested. “I believe that would be our destination, over that way.” 

Dekaras looked up, and the sight ahead was interesting enough to make him temporarily forget about the possible benefits of exploring the inside of a Bag of Holding. They were all standing on a low hill, at the edge of a forest, and in the distance ahead of them he could see the sea, a vast expanse of grey, rolling waves. Now that he thought about it he could hear the faint and constantly present roar of the water hitting the shore, and the occasional call of a seagull. And there, just where sea met land, there was an enormous castle. It had been built on, and partially inside, a towering mountain, with jagged cliffs jutting into the air like spires. The castle itself was square, with a flat roof, and a single path crawling up the mountainside towards the top. That was strange in itself – he thought it looked as if there was an entrance up there, at the top, where there was a dome partially covering it. The rest of the castle had no doors, no windows, and no decorations, only smooth sides of stone. 

“That’s a bit of a strange looking temple,” Zaerini mused, echoing his thoughts. “Ok, maybe Helm doesn’t go in that much for frills and decorations, but still…”

“Guess we get to walk,” Imoen sighed as she eyed the winding path along the mountainside. “Unless you want to…?” She vaguely wiggled her fingers in the air. 

“Better not. If I landed us here, it’s because this was a safe spot to land. There could be magical wards or something ahead that would interfere.”

“Healthy walks are good for the lungs and the legs!” Minsc boomed. “Going up is best of all, for think of all we shall see up there.”

Edwin scoffed. “Yes, well, let us minimize the decision making to the people who can pay a bill without resorting to counting their fingers, shall we?”

“Minsc is sure the little boy agrees that we can manage. He has an adventuresome spirit and the strength and fury of Rasheman behind him. Isn’t that so, little boy?”

Dekaras blinked, as they all suddenly turned to look at him, waiting for his reply. “I…guess?” He said, ignoring the annoying ‘little boy’ for the moment. Yes, it was a long way up, but he’d walked over greater distances than that. And at least Zaerini and Edwin had fetched him some proper clothes from wherever they’d disappeared to earlier, in his own size and without any trace of pink at all. So, he’d be able to move properly. He looked at the path again, and on the hills leading towards it. He thought he’d spotted something over there. _Yes. Very, very interesting._ “I don’t mind,” He said with as sweet a smile as he could manage. “I’ll keep up, you’ll see.” 

“Hmpf, very well,” Edwin said. “But I insist on you being properly monitored at all times. One hint of soreness or blisters and one of the meatshields gets to carry you, understood?”

Dekaras took a deep breath, prepared to explain to the infuriating man at length that he wasn’t an infant, that he was perfectly capable of walking by himself and that anybody trying to carry him against his will could look forward to carrying his own teeth in a small bag around his neck from then on. Before he could get started however, a slim hand on his shoulder made him pause. 

“Not to worry, _abbil_ ,” Viconia whispered into his ear as she leant down towards him with a sly grin. “I’ll sort you out if necessary, and you spare me the fallout to come, deal?”

The assassin apprentice winked at her and his small smile matched the Drow’s for pure vicious glee. “Deal.” 

-*-

“Eddie?”  
“Hm? Yes, my Hellkitten, what is it?”

“Does that seem…in character to you? I mean, it’s not what I’d have expected.”

Edwin turned around to see what his lover was speaking of, and then frowned, simultaneously baffled and anxious. Dekaras had been following the party amiably enough so far as they crossed the hills towards Watcher’s Keep, neither complaining nor protesting. Right now, though…

“What do you think you are doing?” Edwin asked, his eyes rapidly scanning the boy for any sign of trouble. The problem was, he wasn’t exactly sure what he was looking for, but there would be trouble, he just knew it. _Was I ever this bothersome? Surely not? I would have remembered, wouldn’t I?_

“Picking flowers,” Dekaras replied, bending to pluck a few late dandelions and a pair of drooping bluebells from the ground. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“I can see that,” Edwin said, the tension in his muscles sending sudden stabs of pain through his jaw. “Perhaps I phrased myself badly, I admit it. I should have asked ‘why’.”

“Why what?”

“Why are you picking flowers?!”

“Because I want to,” The boy said with such a sweetly innocent smile that Edwin could almost feel the prickle of a stiletto against his kidneys. “They’re pretty and colorful, don’t you agree? Besides, I find it relaxing. It takes me to my happy place. You don’t mind that, do you?”

Edwin’s eyes narrowed as he looked over the slightly scruffy bouquet. He wasn’t an expert on such things, but he at least knew the basics – Dekaras himself had insisted upon it back in the day. There didn’t seem to be anything dangerous present. Even so, there was something…but he couldn’t think what. “And what do you intend to do with them, if I might ask?”

“Oh, I thought they’d make a fine present,” Dekaras said with a small shrug. He smiled brightly and held the bouquet out to Imoen with a flourish. “You’d like them, wouldn’t you? Say you would!” 

“Oh!” The pinkhaired girl said, startling. Her cheeks flushed slightly. “Um, sure. Thanks! That’s very, er, sweet of you.” 

The boy nodded, then walked on, his hands in his pockets. He was whistling softly to himself, and as he passed, he gave Edwin a look. It indicated points scored…somehow. 

_By the eternal flames of Kossuth, if I don’t get him back to normal soon I may entirely lose my sanity._

-*-

The group eventually reached the top of the Keep without any further incident. Zaerini was glad of that, she rather thought Edwin’s head might explode soon if things didn’t improve. _Too bad he’s going about this entirely the wrong way. Wonder if I can explain it to him? But we’re here now at least. Maybe getting the book and getting Vadrak back to normal won’t be too bad._ She snorted quietly to herself at that thought. _Yeah, right._

There were people waiting for them at the top, about half a dozen men and women wearing either shiny platemail or neat grey robes. One of them, a middle-aged man with worried dark eyes, a narrow face and a rather unfortunate tuft of beard, stepped forward to greet the approaching adventurers. 

“Greetings, travelers,” He said in a soft voice. “I am Odren, and I bid you welcome to Watcher’s Keep, on behalf of the Knights of the Vigil – such as remain of us.” 

“Such as remain of you?” Viconia asked, raising her eyebrows. “That does not speak highly of your level of competence.”

“Allow me to explain,” Odren said. “This is, as I say, Watcher’s Keep. It is, of course, designated to the Watcher, our Lord Helm. It is not merely a temple, however.”

“And here, undoubtedly, comes the good part,” Edwin interrupted. 

“It is a prison. A prison intending to hold but one prisoner…the Imprisoned One.” Odren gave them all an expectant look. 

“So…that’s supposed to mean anything in particular?” Rini asked. She looked around. Her friends all seemed as nonplussed as she felt. “Prisons generally hold imprisoned people, don’t they? Bit of a large one if it’s only meant for one person though, isn’t it?”

“Ah,” Odren said, then cleared his throat. Behind him, the other priests shuffled their feet, looking awkward. “Well. The Imprisoned One is no ordinary prisoner, you see. It is an extremely dangerous and deadly creature, imprisoned here by powerful magical wards, put in place by our Lord Helm himself.”

“Let me guess,” Edwin sighed. “It escaped, yes? (Incompetent amateurs, ignorant of proper ward maintenance, no doubt.)” 

“Not…exactly. Not yet. Not fully, at any rate. The wards are weakening, however. When the Imprisoned One was first sealed within, the Watcher tasked us, the Knights of the Vigil, to keep guard, both against intruders and over the wards themselves. It is one of our sacred duties to renew them, every few decades.” Odren looked pained. “It is to my great shame that I must admit that we have failed in this. We grew complacent. We waited too long. The Imprisoned One is not free, no, but its influence is growing. It has…infested the Keep, you might say. It has drawn other creatures there, dangerous monsters. The few of us are all who managed to escape before it was too late, the rest of our comrades were all slain. We are now unable to reach the seals and renew the wards, and it is only a matter of time before the Imprisoned One escapes and wreaks havoc upon all the world.” He shuddered. “If that should happen…but I digress. Only recently, the Watcher sent me a vision. A vison of you. It told me that you would come here, that you would wish to enter, and that you would be capable of reaching the lowest level.”

“How convenient for you,” Sarevok said. “We wade through an army of monsters and do your work for you, is that it?” He stepped closer to Odren, towering over the other man, and grabbed him by the collar. “If you have lied to us, and what we seek does not lie inside, I intend to see how many times I can make you bounce on your way down from this roof. I’ve had some practice at it.” 

“I have not!” Odren gasped. “All I have told you is true; I swear it. With our help, you will be able to enter, if that is what you wish. I do not know what it is you seek, but you may freely have any item that lies within as long as you renew the wards.”

“First things first,” Rini said. “This Imprisoned One, what is he? A dragon? A devil? Some mad wizard running amok?” _The Devil in my vision, that’ll be him. But as for what he really is, and what he really wants, that we’ll see._

“I do not know,” Odren said. “As Helm is my witness, I do not know, only that the creature is extremely powerful and dangerous. You need not fight it however, as long as you reach its chamber at the bottom of the keep before the seals are broken, it will not be able to harm you directly.”

“And just how do we restore these wards? Doesn’t it require some complicated Helmite ritual?”

“No. It requires a ritual, yes, but it has already been prepared.” Odren took a rolled up scroll out and held it up. “Here it is. You need only read this in the Imprisoned One’s chamber, and that will be all. It is getting there that will be the complicated part, but you are clearly all of you powerful and the Watcher showed me that you stand a chance we do not.” 

“Guys?” Rini said. “What do you say?”

“Well, we’ve got to go in there anyway,” Imoen said with a shrug. “So why not?”

“It makes sense,” Viconia agreed. 

“Minsc and Boo agree, the simmering soup of Evil in there needs stirring!” 

“I have agreed to follow where you lead,” Sarevok said. “And if there is any trickery on the part of these priests, my offer still stands.” He gave Odren a look which made the priest take a nervous step back. 

“We have business within that cannot be delayed,” Edwin said. “There is one snag in the plan, however.” He turned to Dekaras. “Clearly, this is not a place fit for children. You must remain outside. I am certain I can convince these Helmites to provide some age appropriate entertainment.”

“Excuse me?” The boy said in a flat voice. “You kidnap me, drag me all over the place, make me wear pink castoffs, and now when things are finally getting interesting with monsters and treasure you want me to be babysat by a bunch of priests? I don’t think so, no.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous! There is no way in the Nine Hells I’m letting you past that door. (What did I do to deserve this ceaseless aggravation?)”

“Fine. I’ll just take off on my own then. I bet I get to the bottom floor before you do, wizard, since I don’t spend my time just standing around _chattering_.”

“But…” Edwin sputtered. “No! Absolutely not! You…do you have _no_ sense of self-preservation at all? And I do not chatter, I provide intellectually stimulating and pithy discourse.” 

Zaerini cleared her throat, gently placing a hand on her lover’s arm. “Eddie, let me cut in here, ok? Before your Thayvian Diplomacy sparks a full war of attrition. Remember, if this Imprisoned One gets out, it doesn’t sound as if any place is safe anyway. And we’ve kind of got our own reasons for wanting to get started with this as well.” She turned to Dekaras. “Tell you what,” She said. “If you promise to stay behind, so we can clear out one room safely at a time you can have a peek. But you’ve got to work with the group, or we’ll all be in trouble. So, no running off on your own, ok? Can you promise that? If not, I’ll just have to ask Sarevok to drag you out by the ear and _shove_ you into a Bag of Holding.”

He blinked, looking a bit startled, but then a quick smile flashed across his face. “All right. I promise.”

“Good. _What_ do you promise?”

“I won’t run off on my own and I won’t get in the way.”

“And you do what you’re told. There’ll be monsters in there, we may not have time for arguments.”

Dekaras gave Edwin a dark look. “Do I have to do what _he_ says as well?” 

Rini hurried to pinch her lover even as she saw him opening his mouth. He gave a small squeak, but then fell silent. “If we’re not in a safe place, then yes. I promise he won’t…shut up Eddie…I promise he won’t order you about otherwise. Agreed?” 

“Fine. But I want my share of the loot.”

“How do you figure that?”

“If I’m being good, then I’m helping you. And if I’m helping you, then I’m working for you, and I’m not supposed to work for free. That’s basic training, you know.”

“Yeah, ok, whatever. You can have some loot, if we find any, but no magical items unless we’ve checked first that they won’t…won’t turn you into a frog or a porcelain figurine or a kitten or something.” She thought she heard Edwin muttering something about how that might actually be ‘more manageable’ but she ignored him. Right now, she needed to focus. 

“Yes, I promise,” Dekaras said with a long suffering sigh. “Even if you’re being very boring.”

“Good.” She turned to the rest of her friends. “Right, now that’s sorted out, shall we get started? We’re not getting any younger here…um. Mostly. Anyway, let’s get going.” _And after this bit of haggling practice, the Imprisoned One should be a breeze to negotiate with._

Zaerini had been prepared for just about anything as she activated the wardstone Odren had given her and the magical wards sealing the entrance to Watcher’s Keep hummed, shimmered and parted to let her enter. She had her sword out and was ready for spellcasting as well, just in case a dragon, a swarm of kobolds, a mad wizard or a mutated flesh-eating plant leapt out at her. She hadn’t quite been prepared for the thing on the floor, just inside the door. 

It was a corpse, wearing ornate and glittering armor in the same style as some of the Knights of the Vigil wore. A man she thought, from the size of it. Yes there were still traces of a droopy mustache even if the face was unrecognizable. The body was…withered. There was no better word for it. It was as if all the fluids had been sucked out of it, leaving it a dry, empty husk. No obvious wounds that she could see, nothing to tell what had caused this. The corpse’s skeletal hand was reaching out towards the door, as if the man had been trying and nearly succeeded in reaching the entrance. 

“Odren?” She called out to the priest. “Is this one of yours?”

“Um…yes, yes I do believe so,” Odren’s voice said from behind her. The Helmite was very carefully avoiding stepping inside the Keep and had to stand on tiptoes to peer inside. “Yes…I recognize the moustache. That would be Sir Hugo Hax. Also called Sir Hugo the Glorious by his friends, or ‘that lucky bastard’ by his foes.”

“Not all _that_ lucky, it would seem,” Viconia commented. “Or at least not for quite long enough. Could this be the work of your ‘Imprisoned One’?”

“I shouldn’t think so, not directly. I estimate you have at least…er…until sundown until it is free enough to touch the world in such a direct manner.”

“Until sundown?!” Rini said, turning to give the priest a sharp look. “That’s not very long.”

“No. No, I’m afraid not. You probably want to hurry.”

“Yes, yes, fine. And the wardstone will open all the levels?”

“One at a time, yes. Until you do, they are all hermetically sealed from each other by portals. You will need to open each in turn until you reach the Imprisoned One. I really would get going now if I were you.”

“Right. Immy, would you take point? This place is probably crawling with traps. Just be careful, because it’s probably crawling with monsters too.” 

“Will do,” Her sister said with a quick smile, moving further inside along the semi dark corridor and around the first corner. “Hey, I think I found one already! Not a monster, a trap. See, over there. That dwarf.” 

Rini followed her, having first taken a moment to reassure herself that Dekaras was holding back as he’d promised. Yes, he was by Viconia, both of them prodding the desiccated corpse of the late Sir Hugo. While a bit gross, that shouldn’t be dangerous, especially since Vic was keeping an eye on things. Satisfied with that, she moved ahead to see that Imoen had, indeed, found a dwarf. To be exact, half a dwarf, the lower half. The legs and the pelvis lay in the middle of the floor. They didn’t look as if they’d smelled very nice in life, and in their half rotten state they were worse. 

“Careful,” Imoen warned her. “There’ll be a pressure plate somewhere…yeah, there it is. Don’t stand on it.”

“Ugh, I’m not taking a step closer until you’ve got that thing disarmed, trust me.” A sudden thought occurred to her. “Um, Immy? You can disarm this, can’t you?”

“Oh yes. Sure I can. I think.”

“You think.”

“Well…” Imoen shot a furtive glance across her shoulder towards the rest of the group. “I…got some tips about them. Before, you know. From, um, our mutual friend. I just didn’t get the chance to work on this particular kind before. But don’t you worry, I’m sure I’ve got it covered.” She fiddled with something on the ground that Rini couldn’t quite make out. “Oh. Right. I see. There it is. One to the left…two to the right…twist…and up. Got it. Stay back.”

_WOOOSH_

Something large, gleaming, and very sharp swung out of the wall, swiftly and silently. As it swung past her face, Rini just caught a glimpse of a twisted, tormented and heavily bearded face, still showing an expression of extreme rage and pain. Then the thing came to a halt, neatly and harmlessly, before Imoen. It was an enormous curved blade, very sharp-looking and nasty. The partial dwarf still stuck to it also looked particularly nasty.

“Ha!” Her sister exclaimed, clapping her hands. “Told you I got it! Classical Swinging Blade trap, with a few twists. Wow, wicked little thing, isn’t it? Look at this mess.”

“I guess we found the rest of the dwarf.”

“Yep. Oh, look, something felt out of his pocket.” Imoen picked up the slim, leather-bound volume and opened it. “Let’s see. ‘The Journal of Krutzbeck. My Exploration of Watcher’s Keep. Huh. That’s all there is to it, all the other pages are empty…”

“Clearly the poor fool got no further than this,” Viconia said as she stepped forward. “Hopefully we will be more successful. I doubt even my powers would be enough to revive somebody from that.”

“Let’s hope there aren’t any more little surprises like this one.” Zaerini walked back past her friends, around the corner. “Hey, Odren! You could have warned us about…Odren?”

The door, which should have been right in front of her, had been replaced by a blank, even stone wall. She ran her hand across it, and yes, it was perfectly solid and quite impenetrable. The wardstone glowed dimly but did nothing else. Worse, as she reached inside the darker corners of her soul, she couldn’t touch even a sliver of the pocket plane, the backdoor she’d counted on in case something went wrong.

_Right. That’s just perfect. The rat bastard tricked us. Now what? And what will go wrong next?_

Just as she finished that thought, the magical torches which had been flickering faintly in their sconces along the walls all winked out at once, plunging her and her friends into pitch-black darkness. 

_And of course, all the torches go out. Lovely._

“Sister?” Sarevok’s deep voice said somewhere behind and above her. “Do you object to me dropping the priest off the mountain once we get out of here?”

“Big brother,” Zaerini said as she gritted her teeth, “I’ll happily bet with you on if you can manage to make him land headfirst.” 

-*-

Half an hour or so later, Rini had decided that justice would best be served by attaching rope to Odren’s ankle before bouncing him off the mountain, so that she could repeat the process as many times as it took to settle her temper. Edwin’s suggestions, while more complicated, were also beginning to hold a great deal of appeal. She and Edwin had conjured magelight, and she and Viconia had better night eyes than humans, but they were still forced to make slower progress than she’d have liked to. So far, they hadn’t come across anything particularly dangerous – an abandoned and malfunctioning golem and a few wandering trolls who seemed very confused about what they were doing in this strange place. Even so, she wasn’t about to let her guard down until she knew for sure the level was clear. She didn’t think Odren had lied about quite everything. The man had been so eager for them to find the Imprisoned One, so even if she couldn’t get back out just yet it should still be possible to go down once she found and activated the portal. Hopefully, it would be possible to reset the whole thing from the lowest level and get out that way. Hopefully. 

She raised the magelight a little higher and peered at the statue she was just walking past. There were definitely tentacles. Lots and lots of tentacles, and necks like snakes. Two heads…two monkey heads? 

_To be honest I don’t know if that makes it less scary or more._

__

__

_More_ , Softpaws told her. _Just see how much trouble a single monkey can cause._ Insufferable chittered happily and tugged at the cat’s tail, then skipped out of the way as she made a halfhearted swipe at him. 

_It reminds me of something. Can’t remember what though. Hold on, what have we got here?_

There was something moving in the next room, something that whispered softly across the floor, and stirred cold air. Nothing she could make out properly – that meant it wasn’t warmblooded. 

“Guys,” She whispered holding up a hand. “There’s something in there.”

The coldness in the air moved closer, and now she could see something, a misty outline glimmering in the faint magelight. It was vaguely humanoid, she couldn’t make out the features very well, but she thought it had a short beard, and a hooded robe. 

“Cold…” It whispered. “So, so cold…” It drifted past the adventurers and went back to circling the room. 

“Another ghost like the ghost of the Bad Witch?” Minsc said. “Will little Rini need the protection of Boo’s fierce strength of mind again?”

Rini gave Boo a look, where the hamster was sitting on Minsc’s shoulder. Its black eyes glittered, and it drew up its lips in what she’d have called a smirk on the face of a human. 

“Um…thanks Minsc, but not yet, I think. He doesn’t seem hostile.” She waved a hand in front of the ghost’s face, and it passed straight through her arm, making her feel chilled to the bone. It didn’t react in any way though. “Hello? Can you hear me?”

“Cold…” The ghost moaned. “The pit…so very, very cold. My tinderbox…did it break from the fall? Am I still falling? So cold.” 

“Another adventurer it would seem,” Viconia said. “Shade, I command you to assist us. Tell us how to reach the next level of this place.” The power in her words was nearly palpable, and she spoke with absolute conviction. The ghost shuddered, but then resumed its circling. 

“Cannot…” It cried. “I know it. But too cold. Can’t think…my tinderbox…need a nice warm fire…”

“Hey, don’t worry,” Imoen said. “I’m sure we can help you out, we’ve got tinderboxes…”

“No! Has to be mine! It’s…oh…somewhere. Maybe down the pit. Maybe not…” 

“He seriously expects us to crawl around this place on a stupid Quest For The Tinderbox?!” Rini said with an exasperated sigh. “What’s next? Fetching some ghoul a breakfast tray? Bringing a dragon its pipe and slippers?”

“No need for tedious and menial labor, my Hellkitten,” Edwin said with a proud smile. “Observe.” He pointed his finger directly at the ghost. A beam of white fire exploded out of it and struck the undead straight in the face. There was a loud hiss, a roiling cloud of steam off chilled ectoplasm, and a surprised shriek. 

“Oh…” The ghost said, patting itself down. “Oh my. Yes. That helped. I feel much warmer now. My mind is clearing. Thank you.” 

“I am, as ever, the very incarnation of intellectual illumination,” Edwin said, rolling his eyes. “Now, no further delays. We are in need of information, and you will supply it unless you desire to experience being a puddle. (My legendary patience is rapidly dwindling with every second in this wretched place.) Who are you?” 

The ghost blinked, not an uncommon reaction from people encountering Edwin for the first time. “Right…yes,” He said. “I am Brother Gherinn. I came to delve the Keep for treasure, but alas, as you can see, I didn’t get very far. I had encountered the shade of the High Priest, and was going about collecting the items needed for the Ritual, but then I ran into this Bottomless Pit, you see. Have you any idea how long it takes to die from falling down a magically enhanced hole? I mean, it literally has no bottom at all. I am…I mean, I was reasonably talented with blood magic, and I kept myself alive for a while, by, well, self-consumption to tell the truth, but eventually…”

“Back up,” Sarevok interjected. 

“You know, that’s a slightly tactless thing to say to a man who died from falling down…”

“I am Sarevok Anchev, Warlord and Foeslayer, wielder of the Sword of Chaos and Slayer of Stupid, Disappointing and Incompetent Minions.” The large man’s golden eyes flared brighter in the darkness as he leaned closer to the ghost. “You do not want to lecture me about tact, friend. Now, what did you say about a High Priest and a ritual?”

The ghost, looking rather alarmed, spoke faster. “Ah, yes. To open the portal from this level to the next one, there’s a certain ritual which needs to be performed. You’ll need, let me think…a candle, a bell, and the holy tome itself of course. The details escape me, I’d planned to memorize them after I found the items, but you should be able to find them lying about somewhere.”

_Somewhere. In a maze of monsters and traps. Thanks a lot, Odren, once again. Or didn’t he know? Actively malicious, staggeringly incompetent or some combination of the two, the eternal question._

“If that is all you can tell us, we had best be going,” Viconia said. “Unless you require an exorcism?”

“Er, no, thank you ma’am. I’ll just hang around here, if you don’t mind. I may try to catch up on my reading, the High Priests’s library is rightly famous for its selection of teenage vampire novels…” 

“Well, we’ll be going then,” Rini said. “Thanks for your help, and sorry about, um, the Pit thing. Bye bye.”

The group walked in silence for some time, carefully making their way through the darkened corridors, with Imoen checking for traps. 

“So,” Dekaras eventually said. “Could you actually have done anything to that ghost? I mean, wouldn’t that take some kind of magic?”

“You’re quite right there, lad,” Sarevok said with a deep chuckle. “But you see, he did not know that. Successful intimidation is not entirely about your own power, though of course it is preferable to be able to back your words. Still, a certain sense of…image helps. A collection of stylish spikes about my armor is certainly something I have found most helpful. You may want to consider something similar for the future.”

The boy grinned. “I just might, at that. Maybe not spikes as such, though. Do you think I could be intimidating?”

Imoen looked back across her shoulder. “Awww, totally intimidating!” She gushed. “Totally. Trust me on this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't tried playing Dungeon Quest, I can definitely recommend it. Just mind the Swinging Blade traps.


	19. The Turn Of The Rogue

**Throne Of Cards 19 – The Turn Of The Rogue**

_A true rogue is never entirely lost. He is merely temporarily misplaced._

_Excerpt from ‘Interview With An Assassin’_

Things were, at last, shaping up to be interesting. Vadrak Dekaras had decided that so far, he quite enjoyed dungeoneering, even if the group had been shut inside the dungeon by a treacherous priest of Helm. 

_I don’t think Helm would be very happy with him, at all. He might do worse than even that thing Edwin suggested, with the stick and the honey and the fire ants._

The mental image had been impressive, as had the Thayvian cursewords, and he’d carefully filed them away for future use, feeling somewhat more approving of the Red Wizard than before. Anybody who could curse like that couldn’t be all bad. Not that it would save the wizard from the already planned prank of course. That would disappoint Poppy, and that simply wouldn’t do. Once they were in a safe place…but only then. 

_I don’t want to get us all killed, after all._

In fact, it would be a good idea to make himself useful. Yes, the adventurers had taken him for some reason, but whatever reason that was couldn’t really have anything to do with killing dangerous monsters in a dungeon. He didn’t want them to suddenly decide he’d outlived whatever usefulness he had and abandon him or use him for monster bait. Valuable tools would be cared for, worthless ones thrown away. That was just how it was. 

_Poppy said to trust them, though. But she could be wrong. I’d better make sure, just in case._

If he wanted to be realistic about this, and he supposed he’d have to be, he had to admit that his training wasn’t sufficiently far progressed that he could hope to help with actually killing anything in here, not unless he found it asleep on the floor or otherwise entirely distracted. 

_Imoen is handling locked doors, and she can do more with traps than I can. But there has to be something. Think hard. Don’t be useless._

He carefully sidled up closer to the front of the group, quietly slipping between the walking adults until he could peek across Imoen’s shoulder. The pink-haired rogue was crouched down, examining a small, round, alcove.

“Oh, hi!” She said with a cheerful grin. “Wanna have a look?”

Zaerini cleared her throat briefly. “Immy? Are you sure it’s a good idea?”

“Yeah, there aren’t any traps, I’ve checked. Nothing on the floor, nothing in the walls.”

“Then why are you bothering with it?” Viconia asked. “This place is not exactly lacking in rooms and corridors to search.”

“Well, sure, but it’s a little weird, isn’t it? Look at it, a short straight bit, just a few feet, and then a round, empty space. There could be a secret door, and if we’re looking for hidden rituals, we should check for stuff like that.” 

“Can I see?” Dekaras asked, hoping he didn’t sound too childishly eager. This was his change to show off, he knew he had good eyes and sensitive fingers, he was good at finding hidden things. _I can be useful. I have to get this right._

“Sure!” Imoen agreed. She was standing at the edge of the alcove, leaning forward so she could touch the walls. “See if you can spot anything that stands out. I’ve got a feeling there’s something here for sure.” 

He nodded, and stepped forward, squeezing past her so he could stand inside the alcove itself. The walls seemed entirely solid, and a cursory glance didn’t offer up any hidden switches or levers. He crouched down by the wall, touching the rocks. Nothing…but there was a faint noise. Behind the wall, there was a hum, a whirring sound. “Can you hear that?” He asked. 

Imoen frowned, then stepped closer, kneeling down beside him. The noise increased slightly in volume. “I can, now. Did you touch anything?”

Dekaras gave her an affronted look. That question didn’t even deserve an answer. As if he’d ever touch anything dangerous unless he knew exactly how to deal with it. 

“Right, sorry. So, there’s some sort of mechanism back there.” She half turned towards the others. “It could be a secret door, maybe a shortcut. Or it could be…”

WrrrrrRRRWWRRRMMMMEEEEEEEEEEE!

The screech reached deafening volumes, and the entire little alcove spun around like a top, too swiftly for either of them to have a chance to get out. Stone slammed shut behind them, and the entrance which had been behind them was now in front, the momentum of the turning room spitting out the surprised pair of rogues onto the stone floor of an entirely new room. It was a fairly rough landing, and it took a few moments of stunned silence before either was able to speak. 

“…a trap?” Dekaras asked once he got his breath back. He winced a little as he sat up, Imoen’s elbow had hit him in the side and breathing too deeply hurt. 

“Ow…” Imoen said, rubbing her head. A faint trickle of blood was turning her pink hair partially red. “Right. Yes. Trap. Sorry about that, I thought for sure it was safe.”

“Well, you were right about there being no traps in the room,” He admitted. “I never heard of an entire room being the trap before, that’s rather clever isn’t it?”

Imoen nodded and got to her feet. She examined the alcove again, patting the walls. There was utter silence, no sound of the mechanism, nor of the people still stuck on the other side. “Uh oh…” She said. “I think it’s one-way.” She winced. “Rini is going to have a fit about us getting lost in here, and Edwin…” She paled. “Oh gods. I wonder if I’ve got any Protection from Fire potions with me? Maybe if I get you back really quickly, he’ll go for ‘slow burn’ rather than ‘core of the sun’.” 

“If you think about it, we’re no more lost than they are,” Dekaras suggested. “We’re just lost in a different place, that’s all. So, there’s really no reason for anybody to fuss over it.” 

“Hmmm…that might work, if we talk fast enough, I like it!”

“And we’re really safer than they are, because we can find traps and they can’t.” He paused to think about that. “I’d like to find the next one before it finds us though.”

“Deal!” Imoen said with that infectious smile of hers and a twinkle in her blue eyes. “No more setting them off, nope.” 

“Why does the wizard act that fussy anyway?” Dekaras asked as he wandered around the new room, trying to get his bearings. It was mostly empty, there was a tattered rug on the floor, a bench along one of the walls, and no doors at all. There was no obvious way out. Hopefully there would be a not obvious one, somewhere. 

“Um…” Imoen said, with a slightly shifty look. “He’s just…worried about you, that’s all.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, ‘why’?”

“I mean, he doesn’t even know me. Why should he care?” He thought about that a little, working through different plausible scenarios. “I already have a sponsor in the guild, and if Master Odesseiron wanted to transfer my contract I’m pretty sure he’d say so.” He cleared his throat, looking away to focus on the walls. “He can’t be wanting me for an apprentice, slaves are easily found without stealing them and he’s got a girlfriend he seems fond of so I don’t think he’s got that sort of interest in children. I guess he could be planning to cut up my brains for spell components, but I don’t see why he’d need to drag me all over the place rather than just to his lab, and…” He broke off, suddenly noticing that Imoen had gone very pale and quiet and was staring at him with her mouth slightly open. “What?”

Rather than replying, Imoen suddenly threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly to her chest, making strange little half choked noises into his hair. He hung motionless like a ragdoll in her surprisingly strong grasp, too baffled by the situation to do anything other than trying to draw breath, which was easier said than done given that his nose and mouth were pressed against her throat. 

“Mmf?!” He said, gingerly patting her back. “Mmmmf!”

“Oh!” Imoen said, releasing him. “Sorry!” She wiped hurriedly at her eyes and blinked rapidly a few times. 

“Are you all right?” Dekaras asked, utterly puzzled by the entire situation. “How hard did you hit your head?”

“I’m fine, just fine,” Imoen said, clearing her throat. “I was just…never mind. Anyway, don’t worry. Edwin won’t be cutting you open, or…or doing _anything_ bad to you. I promise. Really, really promise. None of us will.” She made a weak attempt at a laugh. “Not about to bet on what he’ll do to me if we don’t get back soon though. Let’s hope there’s a secret passage in this room.” 

Fortunately, there was, indeed, a secret passage. A knothole in the wooden bench hid a button, and pressing that button made both the bench and the wall behind it swing open. Unfortunately, the dark passage behind it was foul, to say the least. 

“Blech,” Imoen said, making a face. “It smells like death in there.” 

“It could be worse,” Dekaras suggested. “It could be something alive and dangerous. Besides, it’s a good thing it’s us in here, and not the others. They probably wouldn’t have found the way out, and then they’d be stuck in here forever. We’re doing them a favour, really.” 

“Keep talking,” Imoen said as she advanced into the dark tunnel. “You’ve almost got the tone right, I think. Bluff, bluff, bluff, bluff the angry wizard…ok let’s move quietly now.” 

This clearly being the sensible thing to do, the boy saw no reason to argue. Imoen was good at this, he could tell. Even so, he was smaller and lighter than she was, so he thought he was keeping up quite well despite having had less practice. The tunnel wasn’t very long, and eventually it ended in a sturdy wooden door. 

“Better let me go first,” Imoen whispered. “Oh, and just in case…you’d better have this. Don’t stab me by mistake, ok? Or on purpose. Or any of the others. And don’t tell Edwin.” 

More promising words had surely never been spoken. ‘Don’t tell Edwin’ could mean just about anything interesting or amusing, and he wasn’t disappointed. Imoen gingerly hauled a short knife out of one her scabbards, then unbuckled the scabbard itself and handed it over. “Careful,” She said. “It’s got an enchantment on it…fifth level, Edwin said. Not that I know what that means, but I guess it means _really_ sharp.” 

Dekaras eagerly took the weapon. Finally, the real thing. At the guild, the apprentices were only supposed to handle them during practice hours, not that he’d ever taken that rule seriously. After all, the tutors told him to practice diligently didn’t they? It made no sense for them to take away anything lethal just because it was spare time. Either way, he’d definitely never managed to get his hands on any weapon like this before. The hilt was covered with large sapphires, which was a mark against it since they glittered and took away something from the balance. The blade was beautiful though, so sharp it almost seemed able to cut the very air. “Thank you!” He said with a genuine smile. “Don’t you need it yourself?”

“Nah, we’ve got plenty of weapons, and I like my bow best anyway. I use this for backup, but I’ve got a second one on me. Just promise me that you’ll only use it if you absolutely have to, ok?”

“I promise.”

“Right! Let’s see what we’ve got then.” Imoen fiddled with the lock on the door, and eventually there was a faint ‘click’. She gingerly pushed the door open, and it became very obvious where the stench of death was coming from. On the other side of the door, there was an elf. He was stuck to the door, and when it swung open, he swung with it, scattering little pieces of decomposing elf on the floor. Both his hands had been impaled by sharp blades which had shot out of the door, nailing him to it like a butterfly to a piece of cork, and a third blade had skewered him through the middle. 

“Gross,” Imoen whispered, making a face. “Three doortraps at once? Poor guy.” 

“I think it was one at a time,” Dekaras said, looking them over. “See, he bled most from the right hand, less from the left, and even less from the middle. He was probably nearly dead by then, but he still kept trying. He must have been really desperate to get through this door.” 

“Mmm,” Imoen agreed, carefully poking the dead elf. “Aha, look!” She picked up a thick, blue candle which smelled faintly of lavender as it fell out of the corpse’s pocket. “Bet we can use this, that ghost we met said we’d need a bell, a special candle and the ritual.” 

“And we wouldn’t have found this if we hadn’t gone through that turning room,” Dekaras said. “So, this is all turning out for the best.” 

“Ha, true! Still, we’d better try to get back to the others before…”

And that, of course, was when the monster walked into the room. 

-*-

It had been a lengthy and delicate task to convince Edwin that even if he could possibly manage to blast the wall to pieces, doing so might well have unintended and fatal consequences. 

“I get it, I do!” Zaerini had told her lover, grasping his arms tightly and speaking as clearly and slowly as she felt necessary. “But if that’s a loadbearing wall, then rocks fall, everyone dies. Not a good idea, right?”

The wizard snarled quietly, his fingers twitching, but at least there weren’t any sparks. That was a good sign. Probably. 

“We’ll find them,” She said, trying to sound entirely convinced of this and not at all worried. “There has to be a way around to the other side. As long as they have the sense to stay put…”

Edwin gave her a pointed look. 

“Well, even if they don’t have the sense to stay put, we’ll find them. And when we do, you can give Immy a big talking to, but no blowing her up, promise?”

“You may want to invest in a pair of leashes for your errant rogues,” Viconia suggested. “With bells on the collars, as pet spiders sometimes wear.”

“Don’t think they’d like that much. And how does a collar fit on a spider? They don’t have much of a neck…no, never mind, we’d better get going.” The bard turned to look at her familiar. The black cat was sitting neatly by her side, giving Viconia a disapproving look. Clearly, she didn’t care much for the idea of bells either. “Softy can help track them, once we get closer. For now, we want to find the closest door that leads in their general direction and keep doing that. Oh, and be careful about traps.” 

“Minsc will lead the way!” Minsc offered. “Boo’s keen nose will help sniff out danger, and should there be any dastardly traps about, my strong arm and sturdy armour will keep them at bay.”

“Presumably Krutzbeck the Split Dwarf felt the same,” Edwin said with a faint sneer. “By all means, do educate us on the intricacies of trap detection.” 

“I will be right behind you, ranger,” Viconia offered. “Attempt to keep your limbs close to your torso, and if they do become detached try to aim for a clean cutting wound rather than a crushing one.”

“Minsc will do his very best.”

“Good. Fear not, if you get entirely too mangled, I could always reanimate you.” 

“That’s reassuring,” Rini said with a sigh. “Let’s get going, and find the…the missing people sooner rather than later.” _I almost said ‘children’. Immy isn’t even that much younger than I am. I’m sounding like Jaheira. Why am I sounding like Jaheira? Gods, I do miss her._ She sighed again, more quietly this time. _Being responsible kind of sucks. But you do what you’ve got to do._

-*-

The monster that had just entered the room was humanoid, but definitely not human. The head was too large, the arms too long and the legs too short and twisted. Its skin was a pale, clammy colour, almost grey, and its eyes were large and luminous under heavy brow ridges. It had a flat nose, a wide slit of a mouth and sharp teeth. Quite a large number of sharp, pointed teeth, and equally sharp claws on the tips of its long fingers. It stopped short as it spotted the two people in the room, sniffed the air sharply and edged a little closer. 

“Hmm?” It muttered, its voice surprisingly soft and pleasant. “Visitors?” It licked its pale lips. “It’s been so long since I’ve eaten well. Who might you be?”

“Er…hi?” Imoen said with a small wave of her hand. “I’m Imoen. That’s Vadrak. Who are you?”

“Me?” The monster said. “Why, I’m the Ferrox, of course! You’ve never heard of me?”

Both rogues gave each other blank looks and the Ferrox sighed. 

“What do they teach children these days…” It said. “I was summoned here specially from another dimension; I’ll have you know. I’m quite dangerous. Boy, are you unlucky to have run into me! Let’s see…I could grab you in my long arms and strangle you slowly, or chew you one bit at a time, or…”

“Hold on!” Imoen protested. “You don’t want to eat us!”

“Why, yes, I think I do. You both look young and tender, yum yum. Juicy, frrrrrresh meat…”

“We’ll fight back if you attack us, that’s why,” Imoen said. Her blue eyes narrowed, and her muscles were tensing up slowly, almost imperceptibly. Dekaras felt impressed. He hadn’t seen her fight yet, but she looked as if she was prepared to put force behind the threat at least. He might even be able to learn something useful. 

_And I’ll help her, if it comes to that._ He lightly slid his fingers towards the hilt of the enchanted dagger Imoen had given him. _I’m sure this situation counts as good reason._

The Ferrox hummed thoughtfully, rubbing its receding chin with a grimy hand.   
“Well now,” It said. “I think I can still kill you. But let’s see if you’re good for something else.” Its mouth widened in a horrific grin, baring all its teeth. “You see, I’m bored as well as hungry. So, if you entertain me, I may let you go without eating you. How does that sound?”

“What kind of entertainment are we talking about?” Imoen asked. “I can sing a bit, even if I’m not as good as Rini is…or I could try telling you jokes, or riddles, or…”

“Jokes! Riddles!” The Ferrox scoffed. “Do I look like some primitive, deranged little cavedweller to you?”

“No, not at all,” Dekaras said, and then before he could stop himself, “You’re not little at all.”

“Ha! There you go. Anyway, I have a better class of entertainment in mind, something to help me while away the long hours in here.” It shuffled over to a corner of the room and pulled a large cupboard open. Under its outstretched arm, Dekaras could just make out a large number of brightly coloured paper boxes, stacked haphazardly on top of each other. “As you see, I have plenty of options,” The Ferrox said. It grinned again. “Now, let’s play a game.” 

-*-

The room full of rubble hadn’t been a great problem for the smaller and more lightly equipped people, but Sarevok cursed his way through it and even Minsc seemed more disgruntled than normal after a tower of chairs toppled and fell on him. Just why anybody would want to stack their furniture up to the ceiling and wall to wall was unknown. Possibly it was some obscure Helmite custom. 

The room with the arrow traps was somewhat painful, but luckily Rini had been the first one to go in, and she was fast enough that she managed to leap back before she was hit. She was less lucky in the room with the snakes, but at least they had some Cure Poison potions available. The room with the giant boulder trap could have been bad, but luckily somebody had already set it off. There wasn’t much left to see apart from assorted long since dried stains on the floor, a skeletal foot in a fine slipper sticking out under the boulder, and what seemed to be the tail of some lizard-like animal, the size of a fairly large dog. Whatever the creature had been, it had been just as squished as its owner. 

Then, they came upon a new and different place. The dark stone corridors emptied out into a large hall filled with light reflecting off a myriad shining surfaces. Mirrors were everywhere, lining each wall, the floor, even the high above ceiling. There were corridors here as well, but they were mirror corridors, and there was no telling which one would take them in the direction they wanted to go. 

“That can be easily sorted,” Sarevok said as she voiced her concerns. “Stand back, all of you.” His mailed fist slammed into the nearest mirror, and then he gave a grunt of surprise as the mirror failed to display even the slightest crack. 

“Enchanted glass,” Edwin said. He looked the mirror over carefully, running his fingers across it. “It is also highly resistant to magic, including of course magical damage.”

“Well, breaking a mirror is supposed to be bad luck anyway;” Rini said with a small sigh. “We don’t need any more of that, so I guess we walk. Just stick close together, the last thing we need is anybody else getting lost.” 

For a while, there was a certain sense of novelty to the mirror maze, especially since not all the mirrors were regular ones. Rini watched them with interest as some showed her very thin and tall, others short and stumpy, yet others distorted and rippled. After a while, she couldn’t help herself and started making amusing faces at the best ones. She caught Edwin’s eye as she pulled a particularly good one off, and her heart took a little leap as he smiled at her. _He needs that, badly._ She smiled back, and for a while she almost managed to forget the gravity of their current situation. Soon enough, the novelty of the mirrors wore off though, and unfortunately there was no indication that they were any closer to getting out of the maze.

“Isn’t there some sort of cleric spell to let you see the entire outline of a building?” She asked Viconia. 

“Indeed, there is,” The priestess replied. “And I could memorize it if you are willing to wait eight hours. I suspect it will be quicker to find our own way.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right there. It’s just so…hold on, what’s that?”

The mirrors had opened up into an octagonal room that was a little larger, with more mirror corridors spiraling out from it in all directions. In the middle of the floor, there was a corpse. It was fairly old, but it was still possible to tell it had been a human female once…probably. The tentacles which had sprouted from her face and torso looked as if they’d been a more recent and rapidly fatal development. One of her gnarled and twisted hands clutched and empty potion bottle, the other a piece of paper. 

“…I cannot get out,” Viconia read from the paper. “’I’ve been wandering this cursed mirror maze for hours, and I’m no closer to the exit. I never even found the dragon’s hoard, and night is closing in rapidly. My last, desperate hope is that the potion I found in an old chest will miraculously prove useful and somehow rescue me. If not, I, Tatiana, wish you better luck than mine.’”

“Ew,” Rini said, grimacing as she looked at the horrible rotting tentacles. “Poor woman.”

“There is something else here,” Viconia said, picking up a small object from where it had fallen out of the dead woman’s pocket. It was a small, unornamented silver bell, small enough that it would easily fit in the palm of your hand. “Wizard, what say you?”

Edwin scrutinized the bell, leaning in closer to look. “There is definitely an enchantment present,” He observed. “Or…two enchantments? One appears to be a simple enough cantrip made to augment another spell, and I postulate that it is the one required for this ‘ritual’ we’ve been told of. The other one is more complicated…a spell of opening, somehow attuned to music?”

“Music?” Rini said, perking up. “Here, let me see that.” She took the bell and examined it, then gently swung it. A clear, pure note sang out, and somewhere around a corner, reflected in the mirrors, a flash of green light. She tilted the bell in another direction. Oddly enough, the note this time was lower, and a mirror straight ahead of her flashed red. “Oh,” She said. “I think I get it. To activate the spell, you need to play the right sequence of notes, and then something will open. Hopefully a door out of this place.” 

“A musical puzzle,” Edwin said with a look on his face as if he’d just bitten into a rotting lemon. “How lovely.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be so bad if I had any idea what the sequence is supposed to be. Or how long it’s supposed to be. Don’t suppose any of you see any hints anywhere? Helpful little plaque in a corner mentioning the architect’s favourite song? Sequence of repeating colours? Anything?”

They all looked around, but no, all they could see was mirrors, and yet more mirrors. 

“I don’t suppose you know ‘March of The Iron Throne’?” Sarevok said, then shrugged at the looks the others gave him. “What? It’s a good song, I had it commissioned myself. I was planning to have a bard follow me around and playing it when I made a dramatic entrance. You never know, it might work. It goes like this, Dum Dum Dum Da Di Dum…” 

“I’ll just start simple if you don’t mind,” Rini interrupted him. Sarevok’s voice, while impressive in many ways, wasn’t quite cut out for singing. “Scales, then easy tunes, and so on.” _And hopefully I’ll come up with something before we all get as desperate as tentacle woman over there._

-*-

“How can you be so cursedly lucky?” The Ferrox complained. “Hotels on both the Grand Temple and the Knight’s Hall already?” 

“Guess I’m just born that lucky,” Imoen said with a wide smile, raking in the fake money the monster reluctantly handed over to her. “Besides, Vadrak isn’t doing badly either. All four Elemental Wizard Towers, that’ll be hard to get past.”

“I’ll do my best,” Dekaras modestly said. He gave the Ferrox as innocent a look as he could manage. “But at least you got to pick the Boot for your piece, like you wanted. I’ll just manage with the Dog I guess.” He noticed with some satisfaction that the monster ground its long teeth in frustration and flicked its claws through its steadily dwindling stash of game money. At the same time, he most certainly didn’t look at what Imoen was doing with the dice. “I wonder what I’ll try to buy next,” He mused out loud, patting his own, considerably larger stack of money in order to distract the monster as much as possible. “Sir Ferrox, perhaps you’d like to sell me your Dark Cult Temple? I’ll offer you a whole thousand gold for it, enough for you to pay the rent in case you should land on the Ice Tower again.”

“You…little extortionist!” The Ferrox spat. “I refuse!”

“Your choice, of course. I’m sure I can think of something else to do with the money.” He tapped his chin with his finger pretending to be deep in thought. “How does a Golden Throne in the Ice Tower sound? I could invest in that, and then if you happen to land on that square again it’ll be three times the rent for you, I’m afraid.” 

“I don’t think I want to play this game anymore,” The Ferrox sulked. “Let’s make it two out of three.”

“But you’re the one who picked this one,” Imoen objected. “If you’re giving up, it’s only fair that we get to choose the second one.”

“Fine! Fine! Choose one, now, before I forget my promise and eat you both anyway!”

“All right,” Imoen said. She looked the stack of paper boxes over. “This looks fun, how about this one?”

The Ferrox ambled over to see what she had picked. “Hm. Well, it’s different from playing Athkatla Empire anyway.” He opened the box and spread out a large cloth marked with several round patches in different colours on the floor. “Right. There are two of you, and only one of me. It will be fairer if only one of you plays.” He thought for a moment, then pointed at Imoen. “You. You’re larger and will have a harder time twisting yourself enough. The little one can spin the wheel.”

“Of course,” Dekaras said with a calm smile. He wondered what to be the best angle to work this. “Just spin the wheel and call out the body part and the colour correct?”

“Yes. The colour is random, you call out the body part before you spin. We both move, and whoever falls first, or goes outside of the mat, has lost.” The Ferrox showed its sharp teeth and stretched its long arms. “I’m very flexible, and strong. You’ll have a hard time keeping up with me.” 

“Oh, I’ll just have to do my best,” Imoen said with a twinkle in her eyes. “You go ahead Vadrak, and we’ll see if I can’t get into a good position somehow.” 

The boy nodded and settled the little wheel in front of him. He was reasonably certain that he knew what to do, and if it turned out he was wrong, he thought he’d be able to improvise something.   
_And we’ll see if I can’t make him sorry about that ‘little one’._

Approximately ten minutes later, Imoen and the Ferrox were gradually being twisted into a complicated knot of straining limbs as they worked to put their right hand on blue or their left foot on green at the appropriate moment. Imoen was grimacing with strain caused at least partially by the fact that the sprawling Ferrox had, well, not bothered to keep trying to restrain itself as it moved, and the air had become particularly pungent. 

“Plenty more where that came from, girl!” The monster chuckled. “Give up now and I’ll eat you quickly.”

“Nope…don’t…think so,” Imoen puffed. “Go on Vadrak, I’ve got it covered.” 

Dekaras nodded and spun the wheel again. It was pretty complicated to work out how to position friend and foe, but he thought he was nearly there. And after all, it wasn’t as if the Ferrox could actually _see_ whether he was truthful or not about which colour he called out. 

“Right foot, red,” He said with a small yawn of faked boredom. “Go for it.” 

The Ferrox huffed, and turned around, practically on top of Imoen, face downwards, belly above her face as she crouched into a position which required her to bend backwards. What it also did, was to place her hands in close proximity to the Ferrox’ torso. There was a grunt, a brief squeal, and then the Ferrox went utterly limp and collapsed on top of Imoen, a pool of sticky yellow blood rapidly spreading around it. Dekaras jumped down off the chair he was sitting on and tried to pull the corpse off his friend, but it was entirely too heavy. 

“Imoen?” He called out, worried she might choke down there. “Are you all right?”

“Just…peachy,” Imoen wheezed, and then the heavy body started moving as she helped pushed it away. She emerged red in the face, her hair messy and her clothes sticky, but entirely unharmed, and there was a wide grin on her face. “Good job, kiddo. Got me just where I needed to go without him noticing.”

He found himself beaming right back at her, surprisingly happy with the praise. “That was very neat,” He said, looking at the dead Ferrox. “Right in the heart.”

“Heh,” Imoen said, with a slightly more wistful smile. “Well, I learnt from the best. And practiced, of course.” She cleared her throat. “So, that’s one Ferrox less in the world. Good riddance. Let’s see if we can find out way out and get back to the others now, right?”

“Right. Imoen?”

“Yes?”

“Can we look around first? I want to see if there’s anything we can bring along.” He gave her a quick smile. “If nothing else, at least this game. I want to see if I can make the others play it. For…fun.” 

“What, like, Sarevok, and Minsc…and Edwin? All tangled up in a knot?”

“Yes.”

Imoen started quickly folding the bloodsoaked mat up, a bubbly giggle escaping her. “You are so on.”


	20. Between A Rock And A Wet Place

**Throne Of Cards 20 – Between A Rock And A Wet Place**

_When I was small, I thought growing up meant becoming a different person. Now I know it just means becoming more of what you already were or getting better at hiding it. Sometimes it’s both._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“The trouble,” Zaerini sighed, “Is that there are so many possible songs or melodies. I can’t even be sure that the one meant to open this labyrinth is one I know, and even if it is it could take me ages to figure out which one it is. Time which we don’t really have.” 

“That isn’t entirely true, you know,” Viconia said with a thoughtful frown. The Drow priestess had sat down on the floor, leaning her back against one of the smooth mirrors. “Think about it. This place is meant to be opened by the priests of Helm, correct? Surely you cannot imagine they were all masters in the art of music. The sequence of notes must be relatively simplistic.” 

“Hmm, you’ve got a good point there.”

“I always do,” Viconia smirked. 

“So, a reasonably simple tune, something easy enough to remember. And probably not something entirely random. Helm is orderly, after all. Likes structure and such things. It could be one of his hymns, but too complicated again.”

“Given my impressions of the priesthood in general, we should probably aim for a song suited for a mind childishly infatuated with armor polish,” Edwin muttered. 

“That’s it!” Rini cried out. She leapt to her feet and threw her arms around her surprised lover’s neck, giving him an enthusiastic kiss. 

“Hellkitten? Mmmf…what...not that I am complaining, but what was that about?”

“I think I’ve got it, Eddie. The children, don’t you see? It’s all about the children. We want children.”

The wizard’s cheeks turned rather pink. “You…you mean…”

“I mean that one of Helm’s primary tenets is protecting children, being a proper guardian. There are even orphanages run by his priesthood. And so, there are quite a few children’s songs devoted to him.”

“Ah. Right. Of course.”

“Now I just have to figure out which one.” The bard stared into the many mirrors, her mind racing. “Oh…oh. Could it be? Yes, it has to be, doesn’t it?” She cast her mind back, trying to remember how the tune went, and then raised her voice in song even as she let the small bell play out the song, note by note.

_Mirror, mirror, on the wall  
Shows a shadow, growing tall  
Mirror, mirror, at my back  
Shows a shadow, deep and black  
Hush my child, no need for fear  
It is the Watcher drawing near  
He’ll stand by and guard your sleep  
And once you pass, your soul he’ll keep_

As the final note rang out, the mirrors all flashed with brilliant white light, and then one of them swung open, displaying a wide passageway with a smooth flagstone floor and magical torches burning brightly along the walls.

“And I thought the hymns to Lolth were disturbing,” Viconia said, shaking her head. “Do surfacer children like this sort of thing?”

“Well…it gave Immy nightmares for a year after Gorion taught it to us,” Zaerini said with a rueful smile. “She had to sleep in my bed, and I had to promise her each and every evening that I wouldn’t let the Shadow of Helm get her in the night. No wonder I remember that song.” 

“That was beautifully handled,” Edwin praised her, his arm wrapping itself around her waist. “Excellent reasoning.”

“Hey, all adventuring parties should have a bard, that’s what I always say,” She said and winked at him. “I’ll sing you a song in private later, when we have the time, and see if I can put you into an even better mood.”

-*-

The corridor twisted and turned, and finally led into a large and fairly dark hall. There were several tall stone statues standing in heroic poses along the walls, and Rini watched them with some interest. There was a tall, robed woman brandishing a sword and gesturing as if beckoning an army to follow her. Another, equally tall, robed woman was holding a torch aloft – or was it a magic wand? A headless, armless thing brandished a pair of impressive wings, and the fact that the body was well-formed somehow made the entire thing worse. Another one seemed to portray an athlete of sorts, in the midst of throwing a heavy stone disc, an athlete who’d quite forgotten to put any clothes on. The same could be said for the statue of the young and attractive man carrying a lyre. That was a beautiful statue for sure. 

_Hands a bit big, maybe. But I bet he plays well._

There was the tinkling sound of running water somewhere off to the right, a very welcome sound indeed after all the wandering through dusty halls and corridors, and there was a pool set into the floor, and a fountain with a complicated arrangements of rocks jutting into the pool. Another statue, this one of a pensive mermaid, perched on one of the larger rocks. On top of the topmost rock was the final statue. This one was small, chubby, male, and very, very busy. The water sprinkled out between its chubby fingers and trickled merrily down the little waterfall that pooled around the mermaid. 

_On second thought, I’m not sure I’m that thirsty anymore._

On the far side of the hall from the entrance they had just stepped through she could make out doors leading to both left and right, and between those doors there was a podium. On top of that there was – well it looked almost like another statue. It was a large metal ring, about the size of a door but completely round and with oddly jutting spikes sticking out of it. In front of the thing there were two slight figures, busily poking and prodding it and seemingly deep in conversation. 

_Thank the gods_ , Zaerini thought even as she heard Edwin give a sigh that was almost a sob of relief. The two figures startled slightly and turned around. 

“Oh, hi guys!” Imoen said with a bright little wave. “Imagine meeting you here, huh? Boy, have we got some funny stories…”

“…safe stories,” Dekaras added. 

“…safe stories, totally yeah, nothing to it really, all in a day’s work…”

“…all perfectly harmless.”

“Perfectly. Like…like a walk in a park.”

Rini cleared her throat. “You do look kind of blood splattered, Immy,” She said. “What kind of park are we talking about, here?”

Her sister blinked and gave Edwin a rather sickly smile. “Er…well it’s not our blood. Nope, not at all.”

“That’s true,” Dekaras agreed. “It all belongs to the Ferrox.”

“Ferrox?” Edwin sharply interjected. “What’s a Ferrox?” He grasped the de-aged assassin’s shoulders and quickly turned the boy this way and that, examining him for possible injuries. “Is it entirely dead, and just how close did you get to getting yourself mauled by it? (Do I even want to know?)”

“I’m fine,” The boy said with a small eye roll. “So is Imoen. And we don’t know what exactly it was, but it’s dead now so no harm done, right? If you lot had been better at keeping up with us, you could have come along for the fun.”

“Keeping up? FUN?!”

Zaerini cleared her throat, gently placing her hand on her lover’s arm. “Eddie,” She murmured into his ear. “You do realize he’s winding you up, don’t you?”

“But…I…”

“Just…ease up a little, maybe? Even if it’s hard. I think you’ll find that’ll work better in the long run. Which hopefully won’t be too long.”

The wizard sighed. 

“Um, guys?” Imoen interjected. “We found some stuff too.” She held out a stack of papers. “It’s that ritual we need to do, we think. Sorry about the bloodstains, they were stuck in with the rules to some of the Ferrox’ favourite games. And the room next to this one has this big stone coffin and an old book.”

“And we are fairly sure this is, or rather will be the portal to the next level,” Dekaras said, poking the metal ring again. He made a small grimace. “It’s not active, but it’s got a powerful spell tied to it.”

“True,” Edwin curtly agreed after he had examined the thing for himself. “The ritual that ghost informed us of will hopefully open it. (And I intend to have him well out of the way for that one, even if I have to knock him unconscious.)”

“Well then,” Viconia said. “We have the candle, we have the bell, the book is presumably in the next room over according to our most trustworthy rogues here. Shall we go meddle with the religious rites designed by the unequaled genius of the architects of Watcher’s Keep?”

“It would seem to be the only way forward,” Sarevok said with a shrug. “And it can hardly be worse than some of our sire’s rites.”

“Right,” Rini agreed. “We do need to carry on. Hopefully the next level will be less annoying than this one. I mean, how much worse could it be? Don’t answer that.”

“Boo says much, much worse.”

“I said, don’t answer that. Ok, let’s go.” 

The next room at over at least held nothing immediately disastrous. Just as Imoen had said, there was a large stone sarcophagus in the middle of the floor, and four massive golems silently standing guard in each corner of the room. Their eyes were dim, and they seemed quite inactive, but by now Rini had seen enough golems not to count on them remaining that way. Before the sarcophagus there was a nicely carved wooden pulpit, with images of the Allseeing Eye of Helm glaring down at…something. It was hard to make out just exactly the something was meant to be, even despite the obvious skill of the woodcarver, but tentacles featured heavily into it and there seemed to be more than one head present. On top of the pulpit lay a large leather-bound tome. 

_Just waiting, harmlessly and innocently, in front of that coffin. Right. That seems trustworthy enough._

“Immy?” She said to her sister. “Do you remember that one time with Ulraunt and the live lobsters?”

“Do I ever!” Imoen said, her eyes sparkling. “Let’s see what we can do, eh?”

A short while later, Zaerini stepped up to the pulpit, hoping that Helm wouldn’t decide to smite her over what she was about to do. But then again, it wasn’t as if she had much choice. She looked over the carefully written notes and turned to the prescribed page in the holy book on the pulpit. 

“As the light of the candle is to the light of Helm’s glory, so is our wisdom to His,” She read. She snapped her fingers, and a spark of magefire lit the lavender candle she had placed on the pulpit before her. It burned with a steady, pale blue flame. She consulted the notes again and turned to the next page listed. “Meanwhile, deep in the Caribbean, the ghost pirate…um. Wait. Wrong page.” She gave her friends an apologetic smile.

“We are all going to die, aren’t we?” Sarevok said. 

“No, no, I got this!” She cleared her throat. “Sound the bell, summon the guardian, for even beyond the grave the will of the Watcher will not be denied.” She lifted the small bell and rang it three times. “Almost done.” Once again, she turned the page. “In the Watcher’s name, so be it.” 

For a moment, the light in the room seemed to flicker and grow dim, even as the candle flared higher. There was a soft, hissing whisper in the air, and then the slow creak of stone against stone. The lid of the sarcophagus was sliding open, and now she could just about make out a desiccated hand holding onto it with a grip that looked worryingly firm for something so rotten. There was the creak of ancient joints, the low rustle of bits of rotting clothing and possibly bits of rotting person falling off and then the creature inside the sarcophagus sat up and looked at the adventurers with bleary red eyes. It was still wearing what had probably once been luxurious priest robes and a very impressive hat, but now amounted to rags, and its features had dissolved into bits of dried out leathery skin clinging pitifully to a grinning skull.

“Who disssturbsss the High Priest of Helm?” It hissed, an accomplishment given that it had no lips and very little tongue left. 

“Hello there,” Rini said with a little wave of her hand. “Sorry to disturb you, we really only wanted to open the portal in the next room over. Feel free to go back to your nap unless you absolutely have to help with that.”

“The portal…isss open,” The lich said, its burning eyes fixed upon her face. “But you ssshall never go through it. Unlesss, of course, you fetch me my slippersssss. Do you have them?”

“Huh? Slippers? Sorry, nope.” 

“Then, you shall die.” The lich threw its leg across the rim of the coffin, slowly but steadily climbed out – and then shrieked with pain and surprise as first its right foot and then its left were severed by the nasty spike traps Imoen had planted directly in its path. It fell over, and Sarevok’s sword took its head off before its magical protections had time to snap into place. As the desiccated head rolled across the floor and the red light in its eyes dimmed, Rini thought it looked positively astonished. 

“Then again,” She mused, “I don’t think you’ll be needing slippers anymore. Or a nightcap either. Good job, Immy!” 

“Wait for the finish,” Her sister said, eagerly watching the golems. They were rumbling into activated mode now, presumably awakened by their master’s distress, and given their size they could have posed a fair threat if it hadn’t been for the tripwires waiting for them. 

“I love traps,” Imoen said to nobody in particular as the golems crashed to the floor where they were easily disposed of. “So, so, soooo much.” 

“Hopefully not literally,” Viconia commented. “That sounds as if it might be both painful and bad for your health.” 

“Could we summon the ghost pirate next?” Dekaras asked. The boy sounded more than eager, positively gleeful. “I’ve never seen one, and I bet he’s got treasure.” 

“Heh, maybe on our way back out, how’s that?” Rini told him with a quick smile. “For now, let’s go have a look at that portal to the next level. I could feel it activating from here.” She turned to her lover, who had paused near the door. “How does it look, Eddie?”

“Well, there is good news and then again there is bad news,” The wizard slowly said, not taking his eyes off something in the next room even as he was edging away from the door. 

“Yes?”

“The good news is that the portal has been activated.”

“And the bad news?”

“The portal isn’t the only thing that was activated (Are we quite certain Helm isn’t the god of humorous sadism?)” 

Zaerini hurried over to the door. She could see the light of the portal over on the dais, and she could hear…footsteps. Very heavy footsteps, stone against stone. It was with an icy cold twist to her stomach that she noticed that the statue that was supposed to have been just across from the door, the huge woman with the raised sword, was no longer there. 

“Immy?” She said without moving her lips. “Don’t suppose you planted any more traps out there?”

“Sorry…” Imoen whispered. “Only have so many with me.” The footsteps were coming closer now, belonging to more than one creature. A tall shadow blotted out the light from the portal. 

“Right. Just checking.” She turned to her friends with what she hoped was a confident look on her face. “We might want to cast some buff spells now. Like, really, really quickly.” Then, a cold, hard hand grasped her by the collar, yanking her backwards through the doorway, and pandemonium broke out.

In retrospect, Zaerini reflected, it was probably a good thing she’d put on one of her older shirts this morning. If not, she might easily have been strangled by it as she was bodily yanked into the air by one of the towering statues. As it was, the shirt ripped from the collar and down the back, leaving her with some interestingly shaped rags. She dropped to the floor, gasping for air, and just managed to roll away as a stone sword as tall as she was hit the ground next to her. Then she was struggling to get to her feet and trying to make sense of what was going on around her. 

Sarevok was facing off against the stone swordswoman, his own sword meeting hers with horrible clangs and squeals, sparks cascading off it. Rini hoped that didn’t mean it was about to break but given how heavily enchanted it was she thought it’d probably hold. 

“Out of the way, sister!” He yelled at her. “I don’t need you underfoot right now.” 

_Well excuse ME then._

That all she had time to think before a stone disc came screaming through the air straight towards her head. Before she’d even consciously noticed it, she was on the ground again and the disc slammed harmlessly into the wall behind her. 

_The athlete statue. At least he’s unarmed for the moment._

The torch wielding statue was lumbering towards her, fire bursting forth from its torch and scorching the ground before it. She backed away from it warily, dodging the streams of flame. Somewhere to her right there was a mighty roar, and the crack of breaking rock. Then a surge of magic, and the floor before her took on a highly suspicious sheen. The attacking statue either didn’t notice or didn’t care in its pursuit of her. It slipped on the greasy floor, slid, and then crashed to the floor where it remained, feebly trying to get up again. More magic, strong enough to make her skin tingle, and a pair of ogres with large clubs fell upon the statue, smashing it to gravel. 

_Thanks, Eddie. Now where are the others?_

Viconia was shadowing Sarevok, her strongest healing spells at the ready to mend broken bone and torn flesh. It was needed too, as strong and skilled as Sarevok was, the statue was even stronger and couldn’t tire. Edwin was off by the doorway to the lich’s room, wisely keeping out of the way of the statues and directing his summoned creatures from afar, now and then sending directly damaging spells at the foes when their backs were turned and he wouldn’t attract their attention. So far, it seemed to have worked. 

SKREEEE!

The sound came from the headless, armless monstrosity as it leapt towards the bard, wings spread wide. Given its lack of a mouth, it was hard to say how it could scream like that, but there was no time to worry about the details. _It’s like its head has been snipped. Hey, mix it up with Aerie and you’d get one full Avariel!_ That gave her an idea. This statue was clearly worn already, and there were visible cracks. She focused to the best of her ability, even as another of Edwin’s spells swept over her and she felt the world around her slowing to a crawl. Her arms were spinning so fast they became a blur, and her sword an indistinct flash of light. She struck again, and again, and again, almost too fast to see, dodging the deadly wings as they tried to knock her down. Then there was a crackling sound, and two loud crashes. _Wingclipped. Goody._ The statue, now reduced to torso and legs, was crawling impotently on the ground like a worm, but it no longer had anything left which could pose an actual threat. 

“Watch out!” Another sword, quite a bit larger than her own, swept by her face, close enough she could feel a cool draft. There was a loud clang as it intercepted yet another of the deadly stone discs thrown by the athlete statue, and then Minsc was striding ahead of her, roaring with fury. “Touch not Minsc’s Witch, Evil Stone Man, for by the unleashed rage of Minsc and Boo shall you be beaten into crumbs to be swept under the carpet by the Broomstick of Justice!” It shouldn’t have been possible for a statue’s impassive stone face to display any emotion, but Rini could have sworn she saw both shock and dismay there before its head was smashed into tiny pieces by the angered ranger. 

Out of the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of Imoen. Her sister was nimbly dodging the pursuing stone mermaid, which was moving surprisingly fast on just tailfin and arms…or were they flippers? Its face was gaunt and hollow, its too wide mouth filled with sharp fangs. There was no time to spare though, for another statue was rearing up just in front of her. The statue of the handsome young man was still nicely formed, with smooth stone muscles and a beautiful face, but now there were other things on Zaerini’s mind than artistic admiration. As the stone lyre sang out, sharp tones made her feel as if hot knives were slowly twisting inside her head, and she could hear cries of dismay that were not her own. She could barely move; how could she fight this clearly superior creature? She was but dust under its immaculate feet, dust to be trampled and forgotten. 

_No._

It was her own thought, but it was strangely echoed by another, in the deeper recesses of her mind. 

NO. FIGHT BACK, DAUGHTER. 

The shock was enough to startle her out from under the statue’s spell and into action. For a moment, the idea of the Slayer seemed appealing, but she almost immediately rejected it. Teeth and claws were powerful, but this was stone. 

_And besides, it’s what he’d want me to do. So I won’t do it._

Instead, a spell formed between her cradling fingers, magic light glowing, then solidifying into a projectile about as large as her fist, and if the idea of it being shaped like a tiny skull pleased her dead sire, well that couldn’t be helped. The skull flew true and hit its target with a loud TWANG. Not only did the lyre disintegrate into little pieces, but it took the stone bard’s head clean off as it did so. As he fell, the remaining few statues slowed and faltered, their strength and speed no longer enhanced by his song. Zaerini paused, breathing heavily as she hurried to look around for her friends. Thankfully, everybody seemed to be on their feet and without any too serious injuries, and she could see no remaining statues. At the far end of the room, a now activated portal shimmered softly, presumably ready to transport them to the next level of Watcher’s Keep. 

“Everyone ok?” She said once she’d managed to catch her breath again. A chorus of ‘yeses’ reassured her, and she allowed herself to slowly slide down onto the floor, her trembling legs not wanting to make an effort just now. 

“I think now would be an excellent time to rest a while, rather than blindly stumble into further danger,” Viconia suggested. Cool fingers brushed the exhausted half-elf’s forehead, and only when the soothing healing spell washed over her did she realized that she’d been bleeding from a nasty gash in her scalp and that her red hair was matted with blood. “Not for a full night, I assume we haven’t the time for that, but for an hour or so at least.” 

“Right,” Rini said. She started to nod, then winced and held her head still. “It should be safe enough, I think.”

Dekaras walked up to her, watching her solemnly. She hadn’t seen him during the fight, but whatever he’d been up to the boy at least seemed entirely unharmed. “There are no more monsters nearby?” He asked. 

“Nope, pretty sure of it,” She said with a faint smile as she tried to sound reassuring. “We got all the statues, and the rooms around us are all clear. I think this entire floor is pretty clear, I’ve been mapping it out the best I can as we went along. You don’t have to worry. Just don’t go wandering off, all right?”

“I won’t,” He said. “And I’m not worried. I just wanted to know. I’ll let you rest now and go help the others.” With that, he wandered off towards where Minsc and Sarevok were setting up a small and temporary campsite. Rini watched him go, and then winced again as her head gave a sharp twinge. With a normal child she’d have figured he was just pretending to be calmer than he actually felt about the possibility of remaining monsters. With this one…who could know?

“How are you feeling?” Edwin’s voice close by startled her eyes open and she realized she’d nodded off for a moment. She blinked, looking into her lover’s concerned dark eyes. 

“I’ve been better,” She admitted. “But it’s nothing serious,” She hurried to add. “Vic fixed me up, but she’s got to save the more powerful healing spells for later, so it still hurts a bit. I’ll be fine with a bit of rest.” 

“Hmm. Well, promise me that you will notify me immediately if you feel in any way worse than before. You will not be ignoring it, do you understand?”

“Bhaalspawn’s honor,” She said with a tentative nod, and then wished she hadn’t moved her head. “I promise, Eddie. Really.” 

“Can I get you anything?” He nodded towards the small fire where Minsc was now fiddling with some pots. “Food? A hot drink?”

“Thanks, but not right now. I think it might make me puke, to be honest. You go ahead though. Maybe I’ll have something in a bit. Right now, I really just need to rest.” She closed her eyes again, relaxing in the absence of sharp light, and smiled as she felt a pair of warm lips lightly brushing against her forehead. 

“Rest well then, my Hellkitten. I will return shortly.” 

-*-

Edwin gave his resting lover one final, careful look as he stood. Yes, she was paler than he liked, but he thought she’d been telling the truth in that there was no serious lingering injury. _Unless she is mistaken? I should have Viconia examine her again, perhaps. Her lack of appetite is somewhat worrying._

He headed for the fire, and quickly decided that he wasn’t in fact hungry himself. There was a pot of tea simmering nicely though, and he poured himself a steaming mug. It smelled quite pleasant and tasted even better. _A little like toffee? With a hint of something fresher…almost lemony. And a darker undertone. Not bad at all._

He finished it off quickly, and then helped himself to another mug. There was plenty to go around. Minsc and Sarevok had started on some truly repulsive greasy sausages that made Edwin’s stomach do a quick flip, Viconia was busying herself with a bite-mark on Imoen’s ankle, and Dekaras was watching the healing process with obvious interest. _At least he stayed out of trouble this time. Miracles happen occasionally, I suppose._

The tea was truly excellent. He had already finished his second mug and was just pondering if a third would be too much. Then…the first small stirrings of discomfort, if not outright pain. It grew stronger with every passing moment, and he winced as he hurriedly stood. _Please, please let there be a privy nearby. An entire temple of Helmites surely cannot be without one? Or do they just find a suitable murder hole?_

There was nothing for it. His aching bladder had gone from ‘mildly uneasy’ to ‘full to bursting’ in what seemed to be seconds, and if he didn’t find a discreet corner very, very shortly, he didn’t want to contemplate the embarrassing consequences. 

_Need to let it go. Mustn’t. Keep it together, Edwin, or you’ll never live this down._

“You seem unwell, wizard,” Viconia remarked as he waddled past her as rapidly as he dared without losing control. “Whatever is the matter?”

For once, Edwin was unable to even think of a snide reply. His forehead was beady with cold sweat, and he could feel his face twisted into a grimace of pain. It was all he could do to round the corner, stagger into the nearest dark alcove where there thankfully was a tall and previously empty vase. Once he had finished, he stood absolutely still for a minute or so, leaning against the wall and trying to regain his composure. _Is it possible to dehydrate myself in this manner just as a Horrid Wilting spell would? It feels as if all the moisture of my body was just sucked out through my…_ The thought was interrupted as another thought occurred to him. _That tea…and that aftertaste…and the way this came on so rapidly…_

Righteous indignation overtook him, and he stalked back to the main chamber where he was faced with mostly puzzled looks. One of them though…one of them was trying just a little too hard to look innocent but couldn’t quite suppress a giggle when Edwin glared at him. 

“You little BEAST!” Edwin shouted, previous worry, anxiety and guilt about his enchanted sire momentarily forgotten. “You poisoned me, didn’t you? Admit it! (If I strangle him right here and now, does it mean I’ll never have been born?)” 

“Only a little bit,” Dekaras admitted with an infuriating smirk Edwin recognized all too well. “It’s not as if you’ll die from a bit of dandelion diuretic.” 

“Hang on,” Imoen said. “You gave me those dandelions you picked, right?”

“Yes, but not the leaves, you see,” The boy said, sounding entirely too pleased with himself. “I kept those for later, once we were in a safe place. I thought it’d make for a fun prank.”

“Marvelous,” Edwin snarled. “Utterly hilarious. And so very conscientious it makes my teeth bleed. Can you give me any good reason why I shouldn’t turn you into a toad for your troubles? (At least he’d be easier to transport, and blissfully silent.)” 

“You probably don’t want to do that,” Dekaras said, studying his nails in a show of feigned indifference. “Not unless you never want to find your spellbook again.”

Edwin felt himself go pale and his voice came out as an annoying squeak. “My sp-spellbook? What…where…what did you DO?” Then he saw what the boy was holding. A small, blue velvet bag, deceptively small. “Aha! I have you now! You thought I’d forgotten your ill-conceived fascination with Bags of Holdings didn’t you? Well, perhaps you will find that Edwin Odesseiron is not quite so easily fooled as you think, and show some proper respect from now on…” As he was speaking, he snatched the bag up, and dug his arm deep inside, searching for the item he wanted. _Funny…it feels wet…_ He pulled the bag more widely open, trying to see. 

“You’re making a mistake,” Dekaras warned him. 

“Ha! A likely story, young man! And once I get my spellbook back, you and I will have a long and extensive talk about your larcenous impulses!” 

“Suit yourself then.” 

Edwin sniffed, and bent closer to the open bag. Yes, he could see something now, even if he couldn’t quite make out the details. These bags were always disorganized and difficult to dig through, but there was definitely something coming closer, and…

SPLORT

For such a small statue, the nude little stone boy really could work up some impressive water pressure, even being away from his fountain. The waterjet hit Edwin straight in the face, knocking him flat on his back. The little statue crawled out of the Bag of Holding, spraying water all over everyone as it advanced on the prone wizard. It had a demented grin on its face and was making little creaking sounds which sounded like laughter. 

“Honestly?” Sarevok said and brought his heavy mailed boot down on top of the little statue. There was a sharp crack, and it crumbled into bits. “Can we have five minutes peace now, you two? Please?”

“Really, Big Brother?” Zaerini said as she walked over. She still looked tired, but there was a small smile on her face. “And here I thought we Bhaalspawn were the resident creators of chaos, mayhem and destruction.”

“Hmpf,” Sarevok said, looking at the wet and disheveled wizard and the once again giggling assassin. “I think we may have to work harder if we wish to keep up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Biology lesson of the day: Yes, dandelion has a traditional use as a diuretic. I may have slightly exaggerated the effect, but let's just say that the Faerun variant is more potent. 
> 
> History lesson of the day: Those statues all exist in our world.


	21. The Chromatic Conspiracy

**Throne Of Cards 21 – The Chromatic Conspiracy**

_If you ever use the phrase ‘She lives a fairy-tale life’, you should keep in mind that this could involve starvation, mutilation, public executions, parental abandonment and cut out hearts._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

The first thing that Zaerini noticed as she emerged into the second level of Watcher’s Keep was the cage. It was sat in the middle of the room she and her friends had emerged into, in front of yet another deactivated portal, and it looked large and sturdy enough to house an angry dragon. Well, at least a young dragon. What was actually inside of it was a small girl, maybe seven or so, with blonde pigtails and a smattering of light freckles across her little nose. She was wearing an impeccable white dress with a rainbow-coloured sparkling bow, and a pair of neat and shiny shoes.

“Hello!” She said in a bright voice. “Won’t you please let me out of here? I’ve been alone for ever so long, and I am sooo hungry.”

“Careful,” Viconia warned, giving the child a hard look. “I don’t need a True Sight to tell me that is no ordinary human.”

“Got that much,” Rini replied, looking the child over. _Softy?_

_She is not human_ , her familiar confirmed. The black cat was pressing herself against the half-elf’s leg and hissing quietly. _Her smell is all wrong. It is like that of the hungry things in the dark._

_Demonic, huh? Guess I shouldn’t be surprised, not in this place._

“You can drop the act,” She told the child. “What are you? And what do you know of this place?”

The little girl smiled. “Perceptive, Child of Bhaal. I am Rhodrillkrzztpfaghna, the Chromatic Councillor, She Of Many Colours, the Rainbow of the 984th layer of the Abyss. You may call me Rhoda.”

“Demon, you are boasting a long string of titles for somebody who got themselves trapped by a bunch of armor-obsessed Helmite jailors,” Edwin said with a sneer that was only slightly diminished by the way he was pressing his legs together. Clearly the dandelion diruretic hadn’t entirely worn off yet. “Tell us how to pass to the next level, and we may be merciful and not scatter your still steaming multicolored innards all over the Planes. (Assuming it is quick about it. My patience is rapidly dwindling.)” 

“Shan’t,” Rhoda said, her eyes twinkling. “I can’t get out of this cage, but you can’t get in either.” She paused, tapping her foot idly against the floor. “But you know what? If you let me out, I’ll open the next level for you – and give you a basket of kisses as well.”

“The next level will do fine,” Rini said. “How do we know you won’t try to kill us the moment we let you out? And how do we let you out anyway? I don’t even see a door on that cage, much less a lock.”

“Well, you don’t,” Rhoda admitted. “Would it help if I reminded you what a sweet, darling little girl I am and told you that I think you’re sweet and kind and pretty and bound to help a little girl in need?”

“No.”

“Oh fine. You don’t know that I won’t try to kill you, then. But what choice do you have?”

“When it comes to deadly little girls,” Sarevok said in a dry voice, “I dare say my own sweet little sisters both have you beat, demon. You will challenge us at your own peril. Now, state your business unless you prefer us to leave you to rot.” 

“Hmpf,” Rhoda pouted. “You’re no fun at all.”

“I spent quite some time in the Abyss, demon. I’ve had enough of your ilk to last me several lifetimes.”

“Well, if you’re going to be that way about it.” Rhoda tossed her blond pigtails back. “I am not the only creature bound to this level. Four mighty wizards dwell here as well. They are the ones who bound me, for me to guard this portal. Only their combined powers can open the cage, and I am required to activate the portal.”

“So, what’s the catch?” Imoen asked, frowning. “Because there’s bound to be a catch somewhere, or we could just go ask these wizards to please let us pass.” 

Rhoda smiled a sly smile. “The catch,” She said, “Is that the wizards have been here quite some time, and the passing of time has caused – cracks – to form in their alliance. They are now locked in deadly enmity and will in fact attack any creature who approaches them. You’ll have to destroy them all and collect their magical sceptres. Those artifacts of great power will unlock my cage.”

“Oh. Great.” 

“So,” Rini said. “What else can you tell us about these wizards?” She didn’t trust the demon as such, but information of any sort was bound to help. 

“There are four of them, as I said,” Rhoda said. “The great Wizards of the Elements, Fire, Frost, Air and Poison. They are all very powerful.”

“Hold on,” Dekaras piped up. The boy was watching the demon intently, and Rini prepared herself to grab him by the collar if he went too close to the cage. “I know the elements. Shouldn’t the fourth one be Earth?”

“On many planes, yes,” Rhoda admitted. “But think about it, an Earth Wizard sounds a bit dull, doesn’t it? And nature holds many poisons, after all. This one simply chose to specialize.”

“Oh. I suppose that makes sense.” 

“As long as you don’t poison anybody else now,” Rini firmly told him. “Once is enough, ok?”

He sighed. “Yes, yes. I did promise. And I only poisoned him a little bit. It’s not as if it was fatal.”

“Even so.” The half-elf turned to the demon again. “So, these wizards, they’re close by?”

“Certainly,” Rhoda said. She raised a skinny arm to point towards one of the doors leading away from the central chamber. “Air is closest, she’s over that way. You should find your way to the others form there.” She grinned; her eyes filled with unholy glee. “But be careful, she’s a flighty one!” 

-*-

“Right,” Rini said, her hand poised to knock on the door before her. A short corridor had led away from Rhoda’s central round room, and ended before a tall, pale blue door, covered with golden runes. “Let’s try the friendly approach first, shall we? Be ready to fight if we have to, but first let’s do some talking.” 

“Minsc and Boo are always ready for fight,” Minsc proudly stated, placing his large hand on her shoulder. “Little Rini needn’t worry, sharp sword and sharper hamster teeth are hers to command.” 

“Thanks, Minsc. Well, let’s see how this goes then.” She knocked on the door and waited. And waited. And waited. “Hello?” She eventually shouted through the keyhole. “Anybody home?” Funny, the air through the keyhole felt cold, like a wind. She carefully pulled the door open, prepared for an ambush, and then gasped and stared at what lay beyond. “Wow…” She whispered. “It’s all sky.” 

And so it was. There was a flat, round platform of white stone directly beyond the door, and other than that, there was empty sky, a vast blue void all around. As she stepped through, she could feel the wind rushing by, cool and refreshing. It tousled her red hair, and she couldn’t help but laughing. There was sunlight, warm against her cheeks, and a cloud drifted by almost close enough to touch. 

“So pretty…” Imoen said, reaching out to touch the cloud. “How can this be?”

“A dimensional portal,” Edwin said, sounding keenly interested. “This will have required some considerably strong magic to construct (Even if it is of course not comparable to my own magnificent skills.)” 

“I wonder where the wizard is though.” Rini said. “You don’t think she jumped off, do you? I can see that happening if it was that or being stuck in Watcher’s Keep.” 

“No,” Edwin said. “Remember, one school of spells commonly associated with the element of Air is illusion. There will be something else here, we simply cannot see it – yet.” 

“That can be easily handled,” Viconia said. She raised her hands, chanting a brief prayer, and bright white light glowed between them, forming an ever-expanding web that spread out in the air around her. There was something ahead…a shimmering in the air rapidly flickering in and out of existence. With a final shower of purple sparkles, it solidified, showing itself for what it was. It was a broad spiral staircase, wide enough for two or three people and made from the same white stone as the platform, and it was heading straight up in the air. Presumably something else waited up there, but from down here it was impossible to tell what. 

“Well,” She said with a sigh. “I suppose we won’t need to worry about getting our daily exercise.” 

“I’ll go first,” Imoen said. “Whoever lives here could have soaped the stairs or set up some other trap, and I don’t think we want to find out if there’s a ground to hit or not.” She set off, with Minsc and Sarevok directly behind her. Edwin and Viconia lagged behind to monitor the divination spell respectively to keep an eye out for any ambushes from behind and rain death and fiery destruction down on them. That left Rini in the middle with Dekaras. Which was good. Kind of. She’d meant to talk to him. She knew she needed to. She just wasn’t sure exactly how to go about it, which was ironic given that in his normal state she’d always found it pretty easy. _Hm. Maybe that’s the key? Maybe if I try to ignore the fact that he looks like a little kid, and try to remember it’s still him, just without his memories._

“So,” She began. “What do you think of this place then?”

He gave her a surprised look from under his tousled black hair. “You’re asking me?”

“Absolutely. You’re clever, I can tell. And you notice things too.” _And you hate feeling useless, I know that much._

“All right…” He slowly said. “Not that there’s very much to notice here yet, other than the wizard of Air being very strong and not liking company much. And the demon girl is going to try to kill us, but that’s obvious.” He smiled a small, slightly smug smile that was disconcertingly familiar on that young face. “And you really wanted to talk to me about something else, but you’re pretending to do it by accident.” 

_Damn. What was it I just told myself about remembering it’s still him?_

“You’re right,” She ruefully admitted. “I still meant what I said though. But yeah, there was something.” She carefully looked around to make sure they were far enough from the others that they wouldn’t be overheard. “Look, I get that this can’t be very easy for you. You don’t know why we’ve got to be here, and I bet it pisses you off that I can’t tell you. But there is a good reason for that, I swear it. If we find the thing we’re looking for, and if we can get it right, I promise you’ll understand.”

He sighed. “Poppy said something like that. I believe her.”

“Uh huh. But I bet it still pisses you off, right?”

He gave her a sidelong look but didn’t answer. 

“I know what that’s like, being dragged along into the night with no explanation other than there being danger. And that was not by a bunch of strangers, it was my Dad doing it, and I loved him. And then he…well, he died. I still miss him, a lot. And even so, when I found out what he’d been hiding from me, it hurt, even if I knew he was only trying to protect me, because he loved me. Secrets can be like that. You can keep a secret, right?” _I know you can._

“I can.”

“All right, I’ll tell you something then, as long as you promise not to tell anybody. I think it’s important that you know this, see. Promise?”

A long suffering sigh. “Fine, I promise, if only to stop you nagging me.”

“Right. Well, it’s like I said, I understand more than you might think about how you feel. And I promise you will get to learn the truth eventually. As for the secret...” She looked back across her shoulder. “I love Eddie, very much, and I know how he works. See, he keeps most people at a distance, partly because it’s easier that way, partly because they annoy him and partly because it means he won’t get hurt too easily. But once he lets somebody in, well…that makes all the difference, really. Sound familiar?” She grinned down at the boy, who was looking pensive and a little startled. “You could prank him from here to the Nine Hells, but it wouldn’t make a difference. He’ll not stop fussing, because he cares too much and that’s one way of showing it. I will try to make him ease up though. But please go a little easier on him in return – you could really hurt him if you take it too far, and trust me, you’d be feeling bad about it later, and that’s the truth. Believe me?”

The boy looked up her, frowning. “I believe you, but…”

“But?”

“But I don’t understand, why would he…” He broke off, looking ahead. “Oh, look at that. I think we’ve found the missing wizard.” 

Rini craned her head back to see what he was pointing at, and only later did it occur to her how neatly he’d changed the subject. Yes, the stairway ended on another platform, a bigger one. She didn’t want to think too much about what kept these stairs and platforms in place, given that they seemed to float in empty air. On the second platform there was a tower, a slender and white tower, several stories high. She could just about make out a blue and pointed roof, and some windows just beneath the roof. What she couldn’t make out was a door. There was a skeleton though, nearly entirely decomposed and wrapped in a tattered black cloak. Viconia poked it and it promptly fell apart. 

“That is so weird,” Imoen said as she circled the walls, checking in vain for any secret entrance. “How are we supposed to get in?”

“I don’t think we’re supposed to get in at all,” Rini said. “I guess the Wizard of Air isn’t fond of visitors. But the wizard must still have some way to get inside…maybe they just levitate up there? I can see an Air Wizard doing that. I don’t suppose you know any levitation spells, Eddie?”

“Regrettably, no,” The Red Wizard admitted. “I do know the practical applications for lightening a load, but I always focused my efforts into more direct applications of force.”

“You mean blowing stuff up,” Imoen said. “Think you’ll get along with the Fire Wizard?”

“That, my dear little pink chimp, is a matter for later concern. I strongly suggest we focus our efforts on gaining entrance to the abode of this demented recluse.” 

“I’m pretty sure I could climb up to that window,” Dekaras volunteered. 

“And I’m pretty sure you will do so over my dead and decomposing body,” Edwin snapped. “Absolutely not. (Bad enough under normal circumstances, currently out of the question.)”

For a moment it looked as if the boy was about to answer with an angry retort, but then he settled for what would normally have been a baleful glare. Currently it looked like more of a pout, which Rini privately thought was rather cute. She knew better than to comment though. 

“I think we’ll just try calling them first,” She said. She thought she could see something far up there, was that a face looking down. “Hello!” She called out. “Air Wizard? Are you home? We just want to talk to you, if that’s all right. Can you come down, maybe?”

Now there was definitely movement. “No!” A light and feminine voice called down. “You might be in league with them!”

“Er…them?”

“Them! Them! The poison witch, the frost harridan and the fire brat! They’re all out to get me, you know. Just like Mother told me. I’m staying up here, so there. Anyway, I can’t come down. There’s no door.” 

Rini exchanged a look with her companions. This…wasn’t exactly what she’d expected. “I see that,” She shouted up at the window. “But don’t you have some other way to get in or out?”

“No!” A silvery, tinkling and not entirely sane peal of laughter trickled down from above. “I don’t, but Mother gets me everything I need, everything. I don’t need to go out there and put myself in danger. I won’t fall for your tricks!” There was a pause. “Though…it’s been an awfully long time since Mother came. And last time she said she thought she was getting too fat for the golden stair…I do hope she hasn’t forgotten about me. I’m almost out of flour, and the blue paint has gone runny….”

“Um…” Rini said, staring at the aged skeleton on the ground. Yes, it could well have fallen from a great height. The bones were mostly dust now, and parts had blown away in the wind. “I’m…afraid your Mother may be…not coming back. Sorry.” 

“No!” The cry from above sounded desperate. “What do I do? I need…things. Mother has always handled everything. She got me this job too, you know.” 

“Well, we’re kind of here about your job,” Imoen suggested. “Can’t we at least talk face to face? If your Mother could get in and out, you could at least get some of us up there somehow, couldn’t you?” 

There was a pause. “I don’t suppose one of you is a handsome Prince? Mother never liked me reading those books, but…”

_Oh Gods, she’s got the same taste in books that Immy does, doesn’t she?_

“Well, at least one devilishly handsome wizard,” She said with a wink at her lover, and then smiled at the proud way he puffed himself up. “But I’m afraid he’s taken. As for the other guys, no princes, no.”

“What about a handsome rogue? I could settle for that.”

_Yep. Just like Immy. At least Vadrak is safe this time._

“Sorry, nope. He hasn’t hit puberty yet.”

“Oh, all right. You can come up, I suppose. But not all of you.” There was another flicker of movement up the window. “You, the pink one, and the child. The rest of you stay down there. I don’t want to tear it out by the roots, you know.”

_Tear what out?_

“But you have to say the rhyme first,” The voice insisted. “Mother always did. It goes like this: 

‘Campanula, Campanula, maiden fair,   
Safe from lion and wolf and bear,   
Always here and never there,  
Now let down the golden stair.’”

Zaerini promptly repeated the rhyme, not sure what she expected to happen. There was a rustle from the top of the window, a glint of sunlight glittering off something golden, a soft hissing sound as something unraveled and descended down the smooth walls of the tower. She found herself staring at the longest braid of hair she had ever seen, the colour of spun gold, thick as a rope, and long enough to stretch all the way from the tower window to the ground. “You have to be kidding me,” She flatly stated.   
“Go on then,” The voice, presumably the Air Wizard Campanula, called out. “Ooooh, visitors, this could be so much fun! Do you play charades? Or chess? I’m ever so bored up here, and I’ve already dusted the tower three times and read all my books and brushed my hair and…” 

_Some days, yes, some days I think I’d kill for a little bit of boredom. Just a teeny tiny bit._

Campanula the Air Wizard had very wide eyes, blue like a summer sky, and a welcoming if slightly frazzled smile. She had pink cheeks, and a button nose. She did, indeed, have golden hair, enormous masses of it braided into that single thick golden rope. Nobody should be able to grow their hair that long, Zaerini thought, not even a hermit living alone in a tower for gods knew how long. It had to be magical. The general impression was somehow made even more unsettling by the fact that Campanula was a very tiny gnome, and so the rope-ladder of hair seemed even more disproportional. 

_I suppose it makes sense_ , Zaerini mused. _Gnomes are traditionally very good with Illusion spells, and those are all about Air._

“Ooooh this is ever so exciting!” Campanula squealed, bouncing up and down before Zaerini, Imoen and Dekaras. “Guests! I never see anybody other than Mother of course. What would you like to do? Play games? Compare spellbooks? Croquet? I like to use old wands for that to make it more exciting, but maybe we’d better not use Monster Summoning, or it’ll get too crowded in here…”

“We did bring that game we found with the Ferrox,” Dekaras suggested, in a voice that sounded entirely too innocent for Rini’s liking. Maybe she hadn’t entirely figured out how to handle the de-aged assassin, but she definitely knew better than to trust him when he sounded like that. 

“Yeah, but not like that,” Imoen declined. “Campanula’s not like the Ferrox, I think we can make friends.” 

“Oh yes, oh yes!” Campanula agreed, skipping across the coils of hair that served as chairs. “I would like that ever so much, I’m so bored. I’ve already brushed my hair three times today, and I’ve run out of room for my Beautiful Art on the walls…”  
Rini looked around the single tower room. There wasn’t a whole lot of furniture, a single if comfy bed, a single (non-hair constructed) chair with a single table, a bookcase crammed full of books and floating magical lanterns lighting the place up. The rest of the place was pretty much filled with hair. The walls were definitely covered though. It seemed Campanula had occupied her lonely days and years in the tower with drawing on them. Sadly, her artistic skills were somewhat lacking, and rather than the beautiful and poignant artworks they might have been, they were in fact scribbles made with crayon. They mostly portrayed clouds, probably because Campanula hadn’t seen much else in her life. 

“Right,” She said, trying to sound simultaneously friendly and soothing. She wasn’t sure just how deranged the isolated gnome was and didn’t want to risk suddenly finding herself in a pitched battle to the death. “We’re happy to make friends. We did come here on an errand though, so hopefully you can help us. You see, we need to get to the next level of Watcher’s Keep, and…what?”

“What’s Watcher’s Keep?” Campanula said, a fascinated look in her blue eyes. 

“Watcher’s Keep? The…big, really nasty dungeon filled with monsters and traps. You know? Watcher’s Keep? The place the portal to your realm leads to?”

“Oh that,” Campanula said with a small shrug. “I’ve never been there. I mean, not since I was little, I mean littler, when Mother brought me here.”

“But…” Imoen said. “Why not?”

“It’s dangerous! Monsters and things, like you said. Mother warned me about them, and Mother knows best. She keeps me safe.” Campanula lowered her voice to a whisper. “And…there’s worse.”

“Worse?” Dekaras asked. He sounded entirely too inquisitive for Rini’s liking. “Dragons? Demons? Demiliches?” 

“Maybe. But I meant the nasty, evil ones. Frost and Poison and Fire. They want to kill me! They all do. Poison especially, she hates that I clear her fumes out.” The tiny gnome scowled. “She tried to poison me; you know!” 

“How?” The boy asked. He’d sat down cross-legged on the floor; his chin resting in his hands and was listening raptly. “What did she use? How did she give it to you? Was it very clever?”

“Ooooh yes! Horribly clever.” Campanula huffed. “She sent me a basket of apples; you know.” She pointed at a pretty basket sitting on the table. It was full of shining, red apples, glowing with health and possibly wax. “The note was signed with her name. If my pet canary hadn’t got to them first, I’d be dead now.” Her eyes glinted brightly. “I still keep him under my pillow. Poor Mr Feathers.” 

Dekaras blinked. Clearly, he’d anticipated a bit more. “She…signed it with her own name?”

“Yes! Wasn’t it fiendishly evil of her? I was hoping one of you would be a heroic Prince, who could go off and kill her for me, and then sweep me off to some other safe place, now Mother isn’t coming back….”

“You really can’t get out at all?” Imoen asked. “Really?”

“No! I can only let others in our out, with my Golden Stair. But not me. I can’t let it down for myself and climb it too.” She sniffled. “Won’t you help me?”

The three rogues simply looked at one another. 

_I hope she won’t crack completely when we show her_ , Zaerini thought. _Oh well. Nothing for it._

“We can do that,” She said. “And we’ll even go talk to the other wizards, even if I make no promises about killing anybody. We were doing that anyway. But you’ll have to let us borrow your Air Scepter if we do that. We need it, and it’s really important. You can have it back when we’re done with it.”

Campanula hesitated. “Well…I don’t know…”

“I’ll let you have one of my bottles of hair dye,” Imoen said with her sweetest smile. “Admit it, sometimes you wanna try something different, right? It’s Passionate Pink. Best Jansen make.”

The temptation was too much. Campanula nodded eagerly, making golden hair ripple like a billowing sea across the floor. “All right!” She said with a giggle. “As long as you show me how to get out. The tower’s enchanted, but if I can only leave it, then…then my life could begin for real. All right!”

“Can I do it?” Dekaras eagerly asked. “Please?”

“Better let us,” Imoen said with a meaningful look at the boy. “You don’t have any weapons, right? Especially not sharp ones. Because Edwin wouldn’t like it. Remember?”

“Oh very well then. As long as you remember that I figured it out.”

“’Course,” Imoen said with a grin, ruffling his hair until he rolled his eyes at her. She took out a short, but very sharp sword. “Rini? On the count of three?”

Zaerini nodded, drawing her sword with a grin of her own. “One.” 

“Um…” Campanula said, backing towards the wall. 

“Two.”

“I’m warning you!”

“Three!” 

-*-

“Well,” Campanula the Air Wizard said as she nimbly skipped onto the ground outside the tower. “I feel a bit silly now. Um.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Zaerini said. She craned her head back to look up at the tower window. It really was amazing how long that braid was. And a good thing that rogues tended to be good at tying sturdy knots. The cut-off braid had been securely tied to the bed in the tower, and it had made for just as excellent a rope when removed from Campanula’s head as before. “It’s pretty easy to overlook the obvious, I should know.”

“I think it might have been enchanted, if you ask me,” Campanula said. She ran her fingers through the shock of short, blonde fluff on her head and smiled a wide smile of relief. “Oh gods, I feel so light! I can think properly again! Yes, it was definitely enchanted, and not a good one. I’m so glad you cut it off, finally I can be myself.” She looked across her shoulder at the desiccated corpse by the base of the tower. “And I’m fairly sure she wasn’t actually my mother either. Why, she’s not even a gnome!”

“Her powers of observation astound me,” Edwin remarked to nobody in particular. “Why is it that we always seem to run into random lunatics, wherever we go? (This is starting to feel like Baldur’s Gate all over again. Any moment now, an utterly deranged murderous madman with glowing eyes is bound to pop up.)” He looked at Sarevok. “Oh. Too late.” 

“I was temporarily distressed,” Sarevok rumbled, not sounding best pleased. “At this time, I am entirely sound of body and mind and still perfectly capable of separating your head from your body with a single blow, I’ll have you know.”

“No thanks, Big Brother,” Rini said and patted the towering man on the arm. “I like his head just fine where it is. Campanula, the Air Sceptre?”

“Of course,” The tiny gnome said. She was just receiving a small bottle from Imoen and eyeing it eagerly. Most likely she wouldn’t be a blonde for much longer. “Here you are.” She handed the half-elf a slim, white rod, about a foot long and tapered like a unicorn horn. “Oooh, I can feel my powers expanding now I’m out of that tower! I’ll just turn the fan on to keep the spells running in case I want to play croquet again some time. Bye bye now!” She gave them all a cheerful wave and snapped her fingers. There was a flash of blue light and she was gone. 

“Wait!” Zaerini called out. “If you can teleport now, you could….portal us…to the lowest level of Watcher’s Keep…” She started at the empty spot where the gnome had been, and then said a few lengthy words that Gorion never would have approved of. Her friends watched her with a mixture of surprise, amusement, and in the case of Dekaras, keen fascination. He didn’t have any visible notebook, but she suspected that he was making a careful mental file. 

_Corrupter of the young and semi-innocent, that’s me. Except I think that I learned a few of the best ones from him in the first place. Wonder if Jaheira would call that the Circle of Life? The Circle of Curse?_

“Well,” Viconia said once she had finished. “At least we have dealt with the first wizard in a reasonably satisfactory manner. “Shall we move on?” 

“I suppose so,” Rini admitted. “Fire, Poison and Frost left. I wonder which one will be next?” 

“I dunno,” Imoen said, “But I hope the next one is different.” She sighed mournfully. “That was my last bottle I just sacrificed you know. Any day now my roots will start showing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Botany lesson of the day: Campanula rapunculus is of course the Latin name for rapunzel.


	22. Red as Blood and Fire

**Throne Of Cards 22 – Red as Blood and Fire**

_Word of advice for all young adventurers just starting out – don’t just sit around waiting for some handsome prince to rescue you. It’s far more interesting if you take charge of things yourself, and in your own highly individual way. Harder on your pretty outfit, but definitely more interesting, and you only need cold water for blood stains anyway._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“Well, this is different from the last place,” Zaerini said, blinking. Her golden eyes were twin pinpricks of light, glowing in the darkness. 

“Different, in a familiar manner,” Viconia replied, cautiously sniffing the air. Yes, definitely familiar. The bright green door covered with silver runes which they had found back in Watcher’s Keep had led them here, presumably the lair of the second Elemental Wizard, and here was a place she had tried very hard and very long to put out of her mind. 

It was dark, not just the dark of a starless night or a deep cellar. No, this was a darkness which involved tons of rock above your head, a darkness which had never been challenged by a single ray of sunlight, a darkness what took on a life of its own. It had a presence, a personality, and it whispered on the edge of your consciousness, whispered of secret delights and of gruesome torment. Sometimes, one came with the other. She looked around, easily picking up the faint red outlines formed by her companions’ body heat, her sharp ears picking up on their breathing. That was the only sound to be heard, otherwise the silence was heavy and oppressive.

“The Underdark,” Viconia flatly stated. “There can be no doubt about it.” 

“Oh, that’s just lovely,” Edwin muttered. “Beholders, Mindflayers, and deranged Drow summoning demons with none of my own skill and aptitude. The Lust Chambers were tolerable, but the rest I could easily do without. (At least this time around she has her soul present and accounted for.)” He made a brief gesture, and a shining magelight appeared floating over his shoulder. As it bobbed up and down, long shadows danced across the walls of the broad tunnel the adventurers were standing in and made them look hollow-eyed and pale.

“Minsc will gladly fight the Hordes of the Underdark for the sake of his friends. Maybe we get to visit the pretty dragon lady and her little baby dragons again?” 

“Not an entirely hopeless idea, barbarian,” Edwin approved. “Arrogant and overbearing as Adalon was, we did do her a great favour which I would be entirely pleased to collect upon.”

“We already did, Eddie,” Zaerini reminded him. “She helped us reach Suldanesselar, remember?”

“Ha! Feeble repayment for all the time spent in Ust Natha, running errands for temperamental priestesses and without my magnificent beard, no less. No, I say she owes us.” 

“I do not know this ‘Adalon’ of yours,” Sarevok rumbled. “But I do know that the Underdark is a vast place. It is unlikely we are about to run into her.” 

“True enough,” Zaerini admitted. The golden eyes turned towards Viconia. “Vic, I realize it’s a lot to ask, but can you tell anything at all about where we are?”

“Oh, certainly,” Viconia said, nodding seriously. 

“You can?”

“Yes. A cave, somewhere deep in the Underdark. Other than that, I’m at a loss.” 

“Oh. Fair enough, I suppose. Would you take the lead though? You’re the one of us who knows the place best, I figure you can avoid some things I couldn’t.”

It was a fair enough request, and Viconia nodded her assent. It had been some time since she had traveled the roads of the Underdark now, but she would still know a lot more than her companions about how to avoid the many pitfalls. So, she took point, and started following the trail, alert for any sign of danger. Cave-ins, poisonous gas, sudden drops, Drow scouting parties, illithids, duergar…too many possible dangers to count, really. That wasn’t what concerned her the most, however. As this was not a regular part of the Underdark, but some wizard’s playpen, she had no way of knowing which way to go and getting lost would be just as deadly as any more obvious foe. Still, there was nothing for it but to head forward, for now. She walked on, remembering the last time she had traveled such dark paths. She had been alone then, alone on her long escape from her former home, and it had taken her a long time to reach the surface world. _Such an alien place. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever fully understand them._

“Nope,” She heard Zaerini say behind her. She thought the girl was trying to be quiet, but she was clearly getting annoyed about something. “I’m pretty sure you’re forgetting some of them. That’s not very brotherly of you!”

“What’s this?” Viconia asked, looking back across her shoulder. 

“Sarevok’s forgotten at least half of the assassins he sent after me,” The redhead sniffed. She turned to the large man. “What did you do anyway? Pay for one, get three for free? I’d believe it from the way some of them acted.” 

“I’ll have you know I took particular care to get my money’s worth,” Sarevok protested, his eyes glowing just as fiercely as hers. 

“Oh yeah? So how does that explain those first two? Um…Carbos and Shank, wasn’t it? I’m amazed they didn’t trip and stab themselves before they even reached Candlekeep.”

“Well,” Sarevok said, sounding amused. “I should remind you that at that point you were not worth the more expensive sort of assassin, little sister. I had the Iron Throne to run after all, as well as a rather large army of bandits and cutthroats.” 

“You’re just cheap! No wonder you settled for kobolds as your Evil Minions rather than something more fearsome, like…like ogres or vampires or mindflayers.”

“We’d have been dead though if it had been mindflayers,” Imoen objected. “I’m pretty happy it was kobolds.”

“Yeah, fair enough Immy, but still ‘Evil Overlord Sarevok and his Army of Kobolds’ lacks that certain something, you know?” The bard turned to Sarevok again. “Admit it, you’re a cheapskate! I bet you spent all the loot on that hideous spiky armour of yours.”

“I will have you know I designed that armour myself and it was extremely stylish! It is not my fault you lack the wits to see it.” 

“He’s got a point,” Dekaras said. “Not about the spikes, but there’s no sense in wasting money on resources you don’t need.”

“Oh, taking his side are you,” Zaerini said, winking. “I’ll see if I can’t change your mind when I tell you about the rest of the assassins. He hired _them_ himself as well, you see. Let’s see then. There was the mage at the Friendly Arm Inn, then that dwarf in Beregost, that one was tough I guess. Then the cleric in Nashkel. Oh, and the other one in Nashkel later on, the one who recited poetry.” She grinned when she saw the boy make a face. “I kid you not. ‘I am Death come for thee’ that’s what he said. I hope that was all him and not Sarevok. Brother Dearest never struck me as the poetry writing type though. Right, there were those women outside the Nashkel Mines…four of them I think, and I think it was four more near Gullykin. And was it another four outside the Cloakwood mines? Do assassins usually work in fours?”

“Not really,” Dekaras slowly said. 

“There were those ogre mages in Baldur’s Gate…I think they were four as well. I’m really starting to think there’s some sort of secret society thing going on here. The Sign of Four Assassins? The two poisoners were only a duo though, and same for Slythe and Kristin back in the Undercellar. Ok, so I’ve not counted random grunts, goons and minions here, but that still adds up to 26 more regular assassins. Also, every single one proudly announced his or her intentions to kill me before they got started. ”

By now, the boy was watching Sarevok with a mix of awe and pity. “You probably want to get yourself a good second in command to handle these things in the future,” He offered. 

“Hmpf,” Sarevok said. “None of you know the stress of upper management. I was trying to become a god, while managing an iron poisoning scheme and a bandit encampment, not to mention the political maneuvering in Baldur’s Gate. I didn’t have time for micromanagement.”

“Hush,” Viconia interrupted. “I see something up ahead, and we want to take them by surprise rather than the other way around.” The thing she had spotted was a faint green glow, steadily getting stronger as they approached. It wasn’t sunlight, but it was nearly strong enough for it, and against the normal darkness of the Underdark it was fairly blinding. Now she thought she could hear something as well…a faint humming at first, but now she could almost make out words. Singing? Who would be fool enough to sing in the bowels of the Underdark? It occurred to her that if it wasn’t a fool, it might well be somebody powerful enough not to need to worry. She turned towards the others and signaled them to be as quiet as they could. Yes, now she could hear words. It was more than one person singing, in deep male voices. 

_We kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill,  
As Mistress wants it done,   
Just kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill,   
And have a lot of fun  
With axe or knife, we’ll take your life,   
And kill, kill, kill both man and wife,   
For our gold! For our gold! For our gold! For our gold!  
We’ll slay both young and old!_

“Well,” Edwin muttered. “I suppose that rules out the possibility of a welcoming party of cheerful and worshipping peasants. Still, not to worry. A few well aimed fireballs into that cavern, perhaps a fog of acid, and we’ll have them sorted out.” 

“Wait a bit, Eddie,” Zaerini objected. “We still want to find that Elemental Wizard, and I’m wondering if she could be the ‘Mistress’. Let’s at least try talking to them first.”

“Suit yourself, but personally I would think we’re better off hoping she gets caught in the blast as well. Still, have it your way.” 

The party continued onwards, to the sound of metal rhythmically striking rocks. The singers ahead had by now reached the chorus, which seemed to involve no actual words other than ‘Heigh-Ho’. 

“Hold your yammering, rothe!” Viconia commanded as she stepped inside the cavern where the green light was coming from. She had prepared herself and her companions well, with several protective spells. Moreover, she had left a little surprise waiting just outside the cavern mouth. “I would speak with you, so pay attention.”

The cavern was fairly large, and the light was coming from several bright green crystals. They were set in the walls, and also lying in heaps on the ground, and in a cart which was nearly full and ready to be taken away. Judging from the perforated state of the walls, it seemed the diggers had been at work for some time. The diggers were of course also the singers, and just as Viconia had expected from the sound of their deep and gravelly voices, they were dwarves. Not just any dwarves of course, but duergar, the deep dwarves of the Underdark. There were seven of them, all with the common dark grey skin, and coarse red or black hair normally seen on their kind. Their state of dress varied from leather jerkins to well-made chainmail, and they were all heavily armed, be it with crossbows, daggers, swords or axes. Moreover, Viconia noticed that they all were tattooed across either the face or upper arm, and she knew what such tattoos meant. Outcasts from duergar society. Outlaws and mercenaries, all of them. That usually took quite a lot, and it meant these would be desperate and ruthless men. 

“What?!” One of them, probably their leader snarled. “Intruders! Get them boys! Stabby, to the right. Poky, to the left. Basher, Crusher, with me. Prickly, to the back.”

“But Chief…”

“As you’re told, scum!” The leader then eyed the final dwarf, an uncommonly large fellow who sat by himself in a corner, drooling into his beard and occasionally giggling. “And as for you Bonkers…just try not to bite one of _our_ lads, right? CHARGE!” 

The dwarves moved to obey, but Viconia was more than ready for them and released the spell she’d prepared. Most of the dwarves froze in their tracks, held immobile as statues by her power. One of the dwarves, presumably Stabby, rushed for the door in the hopes of abandoning his helpless fellows. There was a creaking growl from the darkness and a shriek, and then a massive skeleton warrior shuffled inside the room, carrying the helpless duergar by the scruff of his neck. 

“Right,” Zaerini said, poking a finger into the chest of the dwarf called Chief. “That wasn’t very nice or friendly of you, but I’m kind of used to it so I’ll forgive you – if you let me know where I can find the Wizard of Poison, that is. If you don’t, I’ll ask Vic to think of something to do with you.” 

Viconia smiled, her best and widest smile, and tightened the spell just a little bit until the duergar’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. 

“The…Mistress…” He choked. “There.” His eyes rolled towards a corner of the cavern. There was no living creature there, but there was an object, a tall mirror with an ornate silver frame. It did seem a rather odd thing to find in the middle of a duergar mining site. 

“It is obviously enchanted,” Edwin said as he stepped closer to the thing. “Quite the powerful spell as well, though it isn’t immediately obvious how to activate it. Presumably it requires specific words of power, but have no fear, my towering intellect shall shortly decrypt them.”

“Um, Eddie?” Zaerini said. “I think…”

Before the half-elf had time to finish the sentence, the mirror’s surface shimmered and swirled, and a slender female figure stepped through the portal that had appeared within the silver frame. It wasn’t just any female figure either. Hair as white as snow, eyes as red as blood, skin as black as ebony. 

_Another Drow_ , Viconia thought. _No House Insignia that I recognize, but we shall see what I can make of her soon enough. Yes, this might be interesting._

“You!” The Drow angrily said. “Who are you, and what have you done with my servants?” 

“I have put them in their proper place, as was clearly required,” Viconia said with a quick sneer. “As shall be done with any rabble daring to challenge us. I am Viconia De’Vir, and you will treat myself and my companions with proper respect.” 

“De’Vir?” The woman scoffed. “A House fallen and in disgrace. Why should that impress me?”

“Because,” Viconia said, “My House fell through actions of my own, drawing the ire of the Spider Queen. And yet here I stand, alive and unharmed. What does that tell you, _elg’caress_?”

The other woman’s red eyes narrowed in thought but she seemed calmer. “I see your point,” She admitted. “Very well then. You clearly have power. But I am no weakling either. I am Vastyrr.”

“Bloodpoison?” Viconia translated the name. “Were you born into the ranks of the assassins then?”

“No,” Vastyrr said. “I was in fact born on the surface. Would you like to hear the tale?”

“Short version maybe?” Zaerini suggested. “Not to be rude you understand, but we’re on a time limit here, and there’s something we need to ask of you.”

“As you wish. My birth mother was a sorceress, and the consort of a surfacer ruler – how backwards that custom is. At any rate, she wished for her child to possess great power, as well as certain physical traits. The magic…interpreted her wish in ways she hadn’t expected. She was no Drow herself, and nor was my sire. There was a significant amount of unpleasantness, and apparently my mother did not long survive my birth. Many called for my own blood as well, but my sire forbid it. Perhaps he had scruples, or perhaps he meant to use me somehow, I do not know. He remarried while I was still young, and not long after that he met with a ‘hunting accident’.” 

“That’s so horrible,” Imoen said, her eyes wide. “I’m sorry.”

“I was young, and I cared little for the man,” Vastyrr shrugged. “Still, I would have preferred him to live, if only because his death placed me at the tender mercies of my stepmother. ‘Red Eyes’ she called me, but her taunts were less of an obstacle than her ambitions. She sent one of her retainers with me into the wilderness, where she intended for him to slay me. The man did not have it in him to do so, though. He left me alone, near an entrance to the Underdark. Here, I have consolidated my power, studied the magics of the Deep Earth and Poison, and gathered minions of my own.” She smiled at the captive duergar. “Yes. Loyal minions. For the right payment, they will do anything I ask of them.” 

“And your stepmother?” Dekaras asked. “Did you get her back? She’d deserve it.” He sounded quite eager. 

“Oh yes, child. My stepmother was a mage herself of passable skill, particularly when it came to Divination and Illusion. She eventually learnt that I was alive, drummed up what she thought was a clever disguise as an old crone, and attempted to poison me. Of course, it is possible to build your immunity up by ingesting small amounts of poison at a time, and so I had done. Always be prepared, that’s what I say. She on the other hand…well, let’s just say that when I offered the ‘poor old granny’ a ‘refreshing glass of wine’, that poor, unfortunate soul would probably have been wise to refuse. Happily ever after, and so on.”

“Don’t,” Edwin said with a frozen smile on his face, “Even think about ingesting poison. No, not even small amounts. (I clearly remember a very cavalier attitude about possible miscalculations.)” He’d grabbed hold of the de-aged assassin’s collar and was pulling him closer, away from Vastyrr. “And don’t touch anything she offers either.”

“But I could…”

“No!” 

“Speaking of poison,” Zaerini said, “I realize it’s maybe stupid of me to ask, but did you by any chance try to kill Campanula the Air Wizard with poisoned apples?”

“What?” Vastyrr said, frowning. “The silly little gnome? Apart from her fan occasionally disturbing the workings of my Poison Gas lab, I have no quarrel with her. No, it’s the Fire bitch I’d really love to get my claws into, after she sent her pests to try to kill me.”

“That’s right,” Chief the Duergar piped up. “There used to be thirteen of us, you know. And poor Bonkers used to be an intellectual before those…things came.” 

“Right,” Zaerini said. “That settles that then. I’ll certainly ask her about it when I find her. In the meantime, any chance I could persuade you to lend me your Poison Sceptre, or do we have to fight to the death over it?”

“Perhaps not,” Vastyrr said. “I will let you borrow the Sceptre, if you assist me in my research.”

“Research. Let me go out on a limb here and guess that involves poison of some kind.” 

“Of course,” Vastyrr said with a smile, her red eyes glinting. “You see these crystals my minions have been excavating for me? They contain a rare poison indeed, crystallized Bile of Politician. Not merely deadly, it supposedly has mind controlling powers as well. Before I rarify it, I need to test it however, and so I want a test subject. Now, it shouldn’t kill, not in small enough quantities, but that is just the problem, I need to figure out just how large a dose is a fatal one. So, volunteers?”

“Minsc is happy to help! His constitution is strong and sturdy, and even _Drauvani_ cannot control his mind!” 

“No, Minsc!” Zaerini hurriedly said. “That is, I’m happy you want to help, but I don’t want you to get poisoned. That goes for the rest of you guys as well.” 

“What is that, Boo?” Minsc said, bending down closer to the small hamster sitting on his arm. “You want to help! Oh, that is glorious!” 

“But…”

“Little Rini should’t worry, Boo is a Giant Miniature Space Hamster, and a little poison cannot harm him, nay, not even the Cheese of Evil.” The large man stepped forward and confidently held the hamster out.

“As you wish,” Vastyrr said, and she carefully used a dagger to slice off a small green sliver from one of the glowing green crystals, then held it out. Boo sniffed it, sneezed, and then nibbled delicately. Viconia watched cautiously, prepared to intervene in case the addled ranger were to go berserk once his pet perished. That did not seem about to happen any time soon though. Boo squeaked once, twice, thrice. His fur turned as bright a green as the crystals, then flashed back to its normal golden. And his eyes…were they glowing? Then he growled and Vastyrr took a step back. “Your…your pardon, oh Great One,” She said. “Of course, it shall be as you desire.” She hurried to withdraw a shimmering green rod from her belt and handed it over to Zaerini, hilt first. “I humbly apologize if I have offended you. Will you leave myself and my servants be, now?”

“Um…of course,” The young Bhaalspawn said, sounding more than a little confused. “And you can have it back later, I promise. Thanks.”

“You will reach Watcher’s Keep through here,” Vastyrr said, and she made a sweeping gesture towards the mirror. It shimmered and glittered, and a portal appeared within it. “Please. Just go.” 

“Right. Sure. Let’s go then, guys.”

Viconia followed, along with the rest of the party, but she found herself deep in unpleasant thought. _Just what is a Giant Miniature Space Hamster anyway?_

_Later, Deep within Watcher’s Keep…_

“So then Gorion had to thaw me out, and boy did he lecture me! I thought my ears would fall off. What about you, did _you_ ever lick a lamppost in winter?” Imoen sounded quite curious, Edwin thought, though he couldn’t quite fathom why she’d ask such an inane question. 

“No,” Dekaras replied. “Thay doesn’t really have proper winter. And...and where I was before doesn’t really have lampposts.” 

“Oh, right, guess not. Rasheman seemed more like a woodsy place when we went there. More torches than lampposts, if you know what I mean, and I don’t think even Rini would try licking a torch. She tried teaching herself to breathe fire once, but Gorion made her stop…”

“You know of Rasheman?” The de-aged assassin said. “That I came from there?” His voice had a sharp, slightly brittle edge to it, which Edwin recognized very well, though it was usually far better hidden than this. _Shut up now, foolish girl_ , he thought. He should intervene, but how? There were so many possible ways to make this worse. 

“Um, yep,” Imoen said, looking a little sheepish as her brain obviously caught up with what her mouth was saying. “We went there not too long ago, see. To, well, to rescue somebody from the Witches. A good friend.” 

The boy swallowed once, quickly. His face had gone paler than before, and when he next spoke his voice sounded oddly pale as well, nearly drained of all emotion. “Did you manage it?”

“Kind of. But he was, um, badly hurt. That’s why we’re here, see. That book we’re looking for is something to help make him better.” 

“Oh,” Dekaras said, looking at the ground. He walked in silence for a few moments, and then looked up at Imoen again. “I hope we find it, then. I think I might like to meet your friend.” 

Imoen grinned down at him, but her smile was a little tremulous and her eyes shinier than normal. “I think so too. I sure hope we can make that happen. I miss him a lot, you know?” 

He nodded. “At least he knows you cared enough to try, doesn’t he?” He said, once again in that distant voice. "I…guess that would maybe make somebody feel better. To know that somebody at least tried to stop them getting hurt. Probably. I would think.”

Edwin didn’t hear what Imoen replied to that. He had to look away, and he was digging his nails so deeply into the palms of his hands that he thought he was about to draw blood. He didn’t care. Anything to draw his attention away from the burning lump in his throat and the sudden blur in his eyes. _This is wrong, all so wrong. I need to fix it, but how?_ Not for the first time he silently cursed his own limitations when it came to navigating the stormy sea of complicated emotions and human interaction. 

Normally he didn’t care. Normally he was perfectly happy with soaring above all the simpleminded simians and dismissing their dull ramblings with a few cutting words if they became too annoying. Normally he didn’t have to deal with somebody he actually did care a great deal about being in pain and him being unable to do anything about it. _I can’t get through to him. How can I possibly make him trust me, make him understand?_ With a sudden weary, despairing clarity it occurred to him that he’d never, ever had to make an effort in this regard before, and perhaps that was part of the reason why he was at such a loss now. His father had always understood him so perfectly that he practically seemed able to read Edwin’s mind at times. _Except perhaps that one time in Baldur’s Gate. But I might still have been able to avoid the whole Icewind Dale fiasco if I’d at least tried to talk to him about my feelings for my Hellkitten._

“Hey,” A melodious voice said at that point, and a slim hand came to rest on Edwin’s arm, squeezing it gently. “How are you holding up, Dread Wizard?”

He smiled as he turned to look at his beloved, marveling as he always did at just how exquisitely perfect and positively divine she was. _No, don’t think about divinity, Edwin. Not now. Not while she’s still here._ “Better by the moment, now that you are here,” He admitted in a quiet voice meant only for her deliciously pointed ears. 

“I know it’s hard on you,” She said in an equally soft murmur, brushing a light kiss across his cheek. “But we _will_ fix this, Eddie. Somehow, we will. I don’t care if it’s Bhaal’s reanimated avatar wearing Irenicus’ mask and a pink tutu at the bottom of this dungeon, we’re getting that book and that’s it.”

Edwin couldn’t help but smile at that mental image, horrible and disturbing as it was, and by the pleased glint in Zaerini’s golden eyes he thought that was exactly what she’d intended. “There,” She said, squeezing his arm again. “I’ll do that as many times as I have to, you know. And look there, I think we’ve found our next stop.” 

There was a door at the end of the corridor, a red door with golden runes burning brightly in the torchlight. 

“So, Fire then I guess,” Zaerini said. “Heh, wouldn’t it be a neat trick if the doors weren’t in fact colour coded for our convenience and it was Frost instead? But somehow, I doubt it. Let’s hope it doesn’t end up literally in the middle of a fire.” She pulled the door open and stepped through, with the others following her closely. Edwin was relieved to find himself in a perfectly regular hallway which was not on fire at all, even if there were a large number of magical torches burning in sconces along the walls. The floor and walls were some sort of black stone, very smooth and shiny. _Obsidian_ , he thought. 

“Hm,” Sarevok remarked. “This place has a certain appeal to it, doesn’t it? I could see myself living someplace like this, even if that lacks that certain I-don’t-know-what.” 

“INTRUDERS!” A mechanical voice blared out from somewhere around the ceiling. “INTRUDER ALERT, INTRUDER ALERT! ALL TROOPS TO CORRIDOR 11-Y!”

“Ah yes,” Sarevok said, nodding. “That’s what I was missing. Let’s hope they put up a good fight, I could do with the exercise.” 

“Minsc and Boo as well! The Butts of Evil may be flabby like dough, but the Buns of Goodness must be firm enough to crush your foes in their iron grasp!”

Edwin shuddered at the horrible mental image that presented itself at this, but soon enough he was distracted by the things coming out of the walls. Tunnels were opening all around the adventurers, secret panels sliding aside, and what was presumably the troops of the Fire Wizard were streaming out of them. They primarily seemed to be uncommonly large rodents, varying in size between ‘large dog’ and ‘pony’, and they were walking on two legs. Most of them were huge rats – there were multitudes of twitching noses, yellow incisors, beady eyes and thick, wormlike tails. There were a couple of squirrels as well, a rotund mole and an enormous chipmunk as tall as a man with glowing red eyes and a very disturbing smile on its face. They were all wearing black obsidian breastplates, covered with sharp spikes, and Edwin thought he could actually hear Sarevok give a wistful sigh at the sight. Worse, quite apart from their sharp teeth and claws they were also wielding weapons, ranging from halberds to crossbows. 

_Boss?_ Insufferable said. _I think they might be rabid._ The tiny monkey grasped the wizard’s collar tightly, his leathery little hands trembling. _Fireballs now? Please?_

_I can’t, Suffy. They are too close, I would hit us as well. A Horrid Wilting perhaps…that should take most of them out._

“Wait,” Zaerini murmured as she saw him reaching for his spell components. “Save it for later, unless we absolutely have to. We’re on a time limit, remember. We may not have much time to rest and regain our spells.” She held her hands up, smiling winningly at the snarling rodents. “Hello there. You would be friends of the Fire Wizard, I guess? We mean no harm; we just want to talk to her. Can you take us to her, please?  
”  
The rats hissed and squeaked to each other at this, clearly in disagreement about what to do. Suddenly they all fell silent, as if listening to something only they could hear, and motioned for the adventurers to follow. They didn’t lower their weapons though, and Edwin, at the rear of the party, found himself uncomfortably poked in the back by the giggling chipmunk’s spear. _That does it_ , he thought as he heard a ‘ritch’ and felt a small tear in the back of his robe. _Once negotiations are over and done with, the chipmunk will find himself reduced to chipmunk chunks._

Eventually, the hallway opened up inside a large, round room. It seemed to be a wizard’s lab, there were several bookcases filled with books and scrolls, alchemical equipment which was so exquisite and modern that Edwin found himself quite envious, a cage of cheeping, fluffy, round…things with no eyes but very large teeth, a summoning circle surrounded by powerful runes and an enormous skeleton of some long dead creature with a long tail, powerful claws and tiny forearms. There were windows around the walls, and they displayed a stunning vista of jagged rocks and molten, bubbling lava.

_A volcano? We’re actually inside a volcano? I suppose it would be good for waste disposal, but the cooling spells required seem an unwanted waste of energy._

There was a woman here as well, a tall and fairly curvy human woman wearing a rather stunning outfit made from gold cloth. It was snug in some places and flared out in others, and there was a definite presence of slits and cleverly placed holes. In one of the slits Edwin could just catch a glimpse of thigh-high golden boots with very tall and spiked heels, and a glimmering golden tiara covered with blood-red rubies nestled in the woman’s golden hair. She was standing in the middle of the room, her hand resting easily on a glittering golden wand. 

_Hm, I must make notes of this – something similar might suit my Hellkitten. If I can get hold of the appropriate materials, I am sure I could create one. A few hours of careful tailoring and she would have a dress suitable for her majesty and charm at last, a dream and a wish come true._

_Focus, please, boss_ , Insufferable warned him. _Crazy fire lady first, dressmaking later, please?_

_Yes, yes. Just help me remember the cut of it. If I make the skirts wider, it would be an adequate ball gown, not that any dress, no matter how enchanted, could ever hope to match her…_

_BOSS!_

_Oh, very well._

“Well?” The blonde woman asked, her voice low and warm. “Who are you, and what do you want here?”

“I am Zaerini of Candlekeep,” Zaerini said. “These are my friends.” She proceeded to introduce the party. “It’s a long story, but we urgently need to get to the lowest level of Watcher’s Keep, and so we have come to ask for your Fire Sceptre. Only to borrow it, you see.”

“Hm,” The woman said. “Well, I am called Ashes…these days at least. I am indeed the Wizard of Fire, and I have what you seek, but I don’t know that I want to give it to you. Enough people have tried to rob me already.” 

“Three guesses,” Zaerini said, raising an elegant red eyebrow. “One of the other Elemental Wizards, yes?”

“Yes. That snooty Frost woman! Her powers have always clashed with mine of course, but that’s hardly a reason for her to send her golems here to try to kill me. They tried to make the volcano collapse on top of my lab, and if it hadn’t been for my ward spells warning me, they might well have succeeded. Too bad I couldn’t melt them down and send them back to her in a little jar, but they ran off before I could get there, leaving their huge ugly footprints all over the place.” 

“Right, so about this Fire Sceptre…”

“The others have always looked down on me, you know,” Ashes said, a mad glint in her eyes. “Just because I’m the only one of us not born into a title. Well I didn’t choose to be a servant! But Mumsy had died young, and then Daddy went and remarried that awful woman with her awful daughters. They all resented me, just because I was the pretty one and they looked like trolls!” 

“Some trolls look ok, I guess,” Imoen mused. “Well, at least to other trolls.” 

“Ha! Not them. They could have stopped a whole shop full of clocks. And they tried their best to spoil my looks by making me wait upon them hand and foot, scrub the floors, wash the windows, clean the outhouse, muck out the stables…”

“Oh, Puffguts used to make me sweep the floors,” Imoen nodded. “And Rini always hated doing the dishes, once she tried to break them all on purpose so there wouldn’t be so many to wash, but…”

“Ha!” Ashes sneered again. “Did you get to clean and tidy every day from dawn until dusk, every day and get beaten for your troubles? Did you get forced to sleep in the empty fireplace? Did you get forced to cut the cuticles off the stinking feet of your shoe-obsessed stepsisters? I like a nice pair of shoes as much as any girl, but who needs fifty pairs, really?” She flicked her hair back across her shoulder and little sparks shot out of her wand. “Well, they don’t need them anymore,” She said with a rather unpleasant smile. “It turned out I had a secret godmother, you see, and a mage no less. She’d been friends with Mumsy and wanted to do me a good turn. Now, she had some sort of silly scheme involving sending me off to some party or other to pick up boys. But why waste her powers on that? No, I had a far better idea. I asked her to teach me magic, and it turned out I had a knack for it, fire magic and transmutations especially. I had her teach me in secret, and then I put what she’d taught me to good use.” 

“I assume you are now an only child and an orphan” Viconia said, nodding. 

“There was a very sad and very sudden house fire,” Ashes said with a delighted little giggle. “No more cleaning, ever!” 

“You…burned them alive?” Zaerini said. She sounded a little taken aback. “I get that they were horrible, but…”

“Oh no. No, no, noooo!” Ashes stroked the ears of a particularly fat black rat, the size of a small pony. It bared its long and sharp teeth and coiled its pink tail affectionately around her leg. “No. They got out all right…and outside, my little friends were waiting for them. They used to be regular mice and such, but with a little smile and a song, and liberal application of creative casting they became the loyal minions you see today. They’re rather cleverer than they look, and good with their paws, they actually sewed me this dress I’m wearing, wasn’t that sweet of them?”

“Dress for Ashes! Make a pretty dress for Ashes!” The rat squeaked, looking at his mistress with adoring red eyes.

“Right. Sweet.” 

“I skipped town afterwards of course, developed my powers and eventually set myself up here,” Ashes smiled a blissful smile. “There is hardly anything that needs cleaning in my secret volcano lair, and what little there is the rats can just throw into the volcano.” She sniffed. “I put up with my stepsisters for far too long, really. I don’t let anybody take what’s mine, anymore. So, I’m not going to just kindly hand you my Fire Sceptre – but you may borrow it on one condition. I don’t meet many people these days, and I see a mage in your party.” Wide, slightly glazed blue eyes bored into Edwin’s. “Duel me, wizard, and you may have what you seek. I’m bored and I can do with some practice.” 

“A Wizard’s Duel, you say?” Edwin said. Now this was finally something appealing, not to mention something to distract him from unpleasant thoughts. “Very well, it shall be my pleasure to instruct you in the finer nuances of the Art even as I utterly humiliate, devastate and possibly eviscerate a sad mistake who is at best a shoddy second rate.” 

“Not so fast,” Ashes said, smirking. “There must be rules, of course. And I wasn’t thinking of an entirely regular Wizard’s Duel. For one thing, I assume you wouldn’t want to risk harming your companions, and I did always have a tendency to aim my fire wide.” 

“What do you propose then?” Edwin suspiciously asked. He didn’t doubt that he could beat the woman in any magical contest – well, anything other than Divination obviously but that didn’t seem to be her forte either. Even so, she was very likely trying to stack the odds in her favour. 

“We fight by proxies. Summoned creatures, mine against yours, one on one. No planetars or anything, natural creatures only. Three rounds, I’ll tell you the rules for each round. If you win, you may borrow my Fire Sceptre.”

“A pet battle, is it? And if I lose? (Not that such a thing is even remotely conceivable, of course.)”

Ashes waved her hand. The door to her lab slammed shut, and there was suddenly a roaring ring of fire surrounding the room and blocking off any possibility of leaving. “You probably want to try your best to win,” She said. “My protective spells allow me to survive extreme heat should I crank the heat up, but you and your little friends probably don’t have those, do you?” 

-*-

As he faced off against the grinning Ashes who was standing on the opposite side of the summoning circle burned into the floor, Edwin thought himself well prepared. Conjuration was after all his forte, and he tended to always have several spells of that school memorized for the purpose of cannon fodder, sneak attacks or simply to fetch him things he felt too bored to get for himself. The question was what best to choose, since he had no way of knowing what he’d need to counter. _Or do I? She’s obsessed with fire after all, and while it is my own element of choice it might be a good idea to keep that in mind._

“On the count of three!” Ashes cheerfully called out. “First round is elemental creatures. One…two…three!” She started her summoning, and Edwin followed suit, having made his choice. Before Ashes, a creature with a sharp and oddly spiky face formed, its hair leaping flames, its skinny arms ending in long claws shooting sparks. Flames trailed after it, and molten lava slid across its features. “Magma mephit, attend me!” Ashes commanded. 

_Ha, I thought as much. Well, let us see how you like this._ Edwin was finishing his own incantation by now, and something was emerging from the floor, something shaped by the very same black obsidian. It was vaguely humanoid, but with no discernible features to speak of, and it had a broad, heavy body. Even if it wasn’t the largest kind of earth elemental, it should still serve well. He focused on the summoning, his mind wrestling with the slow, sluggish mind of the elemental, nimbly dodging the mental ‘spikes’ it tried to repel him with. Then it was done, and he was riding the elemental’s mind, its will subdued by his own. “You, creature of earth and stone,” He demanded, his lips feeling oddly numb from the strain. “Smother that thing.” 

The elemental rumbled forward, and though the magma mephit put up a good fight it rapidly found itself stomped into the ground, its flames and heat useless against the relentless elemental. 

“Not bad,” Ashes admitted as the elemental and the corpse of the mephit were dismissed. “But we aren’t done yet. Let’s see how you do this time. Next round is wild animals. Do your worst, wizard.”

Edwin briefly considered summoning something like a bear, or perhaps a panther, but then thought of something better. After all, Ashes was likely to do the same, so he should try to outwit her with a different tactic. As he finished his spell, a small green snake coiled at his feet, hissing angrily. It might not look impressive, but a Rasheman Grass Crawler could take down an ox with just a single bite. He looked for Ashes’ summons, and at first failed to spot it. Then he looked up, and bit back a curse. A large eagle was soaring high above, near the vaults of the ceiling, and as the smiling woman pointed her finger in command the eagle dove. The poor snake never stood a chance, it was plucked up and lifted into the air, and then easily dashed against the ground.

“One win each,” Ashes said. “Oooh, isn’t this exciting?” She rubbed her hands and giggled. 

_Don’t worry, Boss!_ Insufferable tried to encourage his master from his place on Edwin’s shoulder. _You’ll take her this time, you’re the greatest!_

_Of course I am, but I don’t’ trust her not to cheat. She’ll have an ace in the hole, just you wait._

“Now let’s see,” Ashes said, pretending to think things over. “For the final round, let’s try something different.” She thoughtfully sucked on her pinky finger, and then her eyes lit up. “I know! Instead of summoning things, let’s stick with what we’ve got. One of my little friends, versus yours.” She smiled, and beckoned the grinning chipmunk with the round, red eyes forward. “Chad…this one’s all yours, my pet.” 

“What?!” Edwin protested, outraged. “You cannot possibly mean…”

_I’ll take him, Boss, you’ll see!_

_He’ll stomp you flat, and probably eat you! No familiar of mine should suffer such a fate._

_If we don’t do this, she’ll set everything on fire and kill us all. You don’t want that. Hold on now while I work my Monkey Magic._

“All set?” Ashes called out. “Here we come, ready or not! Chad, go!” 

The terrifying chipmunk leapt forward, teeth bared and foam flying from its mouth. Insufferable was faster, though. The tiny monkey had already scampered down off the palm of Edwin’s hand and was dodging and weaving past the chipmunk’s legs. Chad turned, but too slowly, and the small size of the monkey made him a difficult prize to catch. Insufferable jumped, and nimbly scampered up the back of the chipmunk’s leg, then across his tail and underneath it. There was a bloodcurdling scream. 

_Oh yuck_ , Insufferable complained. _The things I do for you, Boss, you don’t want to know what that tasted like._

_I am linked to you, monkey. I can taste it, much to my regret._

_Heh, fair enough. Off we go._

Chad, enraged by pain, struck a mighty blow, aiming as well as he could for the small monkey still clinging to what was left of his private parts. Unfortunately for him, Insufferable leapt clear at the last moment, and Chad crumpled bleeding to the ground, painfully impaled on his own spear. The tiny monkey chittered derisively, and then turned to display his bottom to the dying chipmunk. 

“Well,” Edwin said, brushing some imaginary lint off the sleeve of his robe, “Unless you have more parlour tricks you wish to demonstrate, that should serve as an adequate display of my familiar’s superior guile and skill. The Fire Sceptre, if you please.” 

“That was hardly a battle,” Ashes complained, but she did hand the Fire Sceptre over. 

“Battle?” Edwin said as he gathered the still happily preening Insufferable up and placed the monkey on his shoulder again. “We are in a hurry, a battle would be an intolerable waste of time (Not that my familiar wouldn’t stand triumphant in the end, of course.) No, far better to simply kill the pest. Perhaps he may still serve you, as a fur coat.” As he turned, with what he thought was a suitably proud and defiant swirl of his robe, he felt a happy warmth inside as he met his lover’s eyes and saw her smile at him. Equally encouraging, Dekaras was looking at him with what was definitely interest. Possibly impressed interest? 

_Told you, Boss!_ Insufferable encouraged him. _Beat your chest and roar now._

_No roaring_ , Edwin replied, but the smile on his face didn’t seem to want to go away. _I am no gorilla._

_What about hooting? That’s gibbons, that is._

_No hooting either._

_Even with the Pretty Cat Lady?_ The monkey leered. _Even in private?_

_Well. Maybe just once._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did take care to count all the assassins of BG1, and I don't think I missed anybody. Poor Sarevok, hopefully he didn't pay them in advance.


	23. Frostbite

**Throne Of Cards 23 – Frostbite**

_Know your own strengths and weaknesses, and always remember that one may be turned into the other._

_Excerpt from ‘Interview With An Assassin’_

The snowfall was getting heavier now, covering everything with a soft, soothing blanket. It felt nice and warm as it settled on top of him, gradually hiding him away from the world. At some earlier point it had been cold, he could vaguely remember stinging pain in his limbs and cheeks, but no longer. He blinked, slowly, sluggishly, trying to clear snowflakes out of his eyelashes, but then mentally shrugged and ignored them. There wasn’t really anything he needed to see here, anyway. There was a voice on the wind, cold and clear, singing a song, a slow lullaby.

 _I think I could sleep well here_ , Vadrak Dekaras thought, and then wondered briefly about that. He didn’t really sleep well anywhere, not since Before. But right now, yes, right now it felt as if he could, as if he could just slip into a deep, soothing, dreamless sleep. No more hurt, no more longing. No more. Never again. 

Wait. There was something…a dream after all? Or a memory? It was flashing disjointedly through his slowly unraveling thoughts, chaotic images and voices urging him to not close his eyes just yet, insisting that it was important that he remember. 

_Fine. Just once. And then I want to go to sleep._

The first image was of a door, a pale blue door with silver runes on it. 

_Frost. Yes. We went through it, we all did. And then…then what? There was somebody else. Somebody came. Somebody came for me._

-*-

There had been a forest on the other side of the door, a deep forest where tall evergreens blotted out most of the steely grey sky. They were covered in a heavy layer of snow, soft and pure white, and all sounds were oddly muffled. There weren’t many sounds though, only the shuffle of feet through snow, and the occasional soft thump when a few clumps of snow dropped off a branch. The travelers didn’t speak much, but when they did their voices were quiet and subdued. 

At first Dekaras had been reminded of the forests of Rasheman, but after a while he had come to the conclusion that he’d been mistaken. This forest was…wrong somehow. A forest should never be this quiet, not even in midwinter. True, other places didn’t have as many wilderness spirits as Rasheman did, but there should have been little noises in the background, rustles and squeaks, animals scurrying away from the noisy people. This forest felt dead. He had wondered if the others could tell as well, but he didn’t want to ask. They probably wouldn’t listen to him anyway. Instead, he’d followed the group obediently enough, while trying to be as alert as he could for any sign of trouble. Once it came, there was nothing he could do to stop it, however. 

There had been fog, a far too sudden, far too heavy fog. It had rolled in between the trees, coiling like snakes around their dark trunks, dancing across the snowdrifts like fairiefolk. Then it was upon them, and it was impossible to see anything past your own hand, and barely even that. 

“Careful!” Zaerini had called out. “Stick close together, don’t get turned around. All of you, get hold of each other!” The voices of the others were blurring together, a soft and confusing murmur where he no longer could make out individual words.  
He had felt a hand then, cool and soft fingers curling around his own, female from the size of them. 

“Imoen?” He’d whispered. “Is that you?”

If there had been a reply, he hadn’t heard it, but the fingers squeezed his hand gently, reassuringly. It had to be Imoen, surely. She’d been right next to him when the fog came in. But why wasn’t she responding? And why couldn’t he hear the others anymore? Something was very wrong. He tried to twist free of the grasping hand, but as soft as those fingers felt they were as strong as steel, and he couldn’t get loose. He’d tried kicking as well, but he might as well have tried to kick the wind. There was simply nothing there. Then, the fog had dissolved, the hand had let go of him, and he’d realized just how much trouble he was in. 

His traveling companions were gone, and so was the silent forest. Instead, he was standing on a steep mountain slope, and he could just barely make out the forest far below, so far below that the trees looked like tiny sticks. The snow was even heavier up here on the mountain, if that was possible, coming together in snowdrifts taller than he was, and the wind was howling like a pack of wolves. But that wasn’t the thing that had him worried, oh no. Nor was it the fact that his clothes weren’t really made for this sort of weather, and that he was beginning to feel really cold and couldn’t keep from shivering. No. That wasn’t it. What was a true cause for alarm was that he wasn’t alone up here, bad as that might have been. 

A woman was standing before him, a tall woman with long silver hair. She didn’t look old, but something about the look in her pale blue eyes was as old and as cold as the mountain itself. She was wearing a white dress…no, not quite white after all. It sparkled, little flecks of deep blue, or misty purple, or even translucent green. It made him think of snow, and of icicles sharp as daggers, and of the northern lights. The dress looked rather thin, but if the woman felt the cold, she gave no hints of it. She was wearing a crown of glittering ice, sharp spikes of ice, and the wand she held in her right hand trailed little flurries of snow through the icy air. 

“You called out to me, child,” the woman spoke. “I am here to help you.” 

“I didn’t call you,” he protested. “And I don’t need your help. I don’t need anybody’s help.”

The woman smiled, a slow, knowing smile. He didn’t see her move, but she was suddenly standing right before him, so close he could see tiny and cracked reflections of himself in the icicles of her crown, so close he could smell her. She smelled like the night air on a winter night in the forest. 

“But you did, child,” She said. “Not with your mouth, no, but you called out all the same. What is your name, I wonder?”

He kept silent, stubbornly looking back at the woman as he tried to rub some warmth back into his shivering body. Names could be dangerous with a creature like this, they could give them power over you. 

“It is of no importance,” The cold woman said, her hand reaching out to gently touch his hair. “You shall have a new one, I think. Won’t that be nice?”

He edged back, trying not to be too obvious about it. To be honest, trying to outrun her on this mountain slope probably wouldn’t be very easy, but he had to try all the same. Then he felt himself bumping into something…something cold, and hard. He turned around and swallowed hard as he saw what it was. The creature was as tall as a house, a lumbering construct of rock and ice, with glittering blue eyes in a tiny, smooth head. 

“Where are you going, little one?” The woman said, and she was right next to him again, though he could have sworn she’d never moved. “We have so much to do. Here, let me take you someplace nicer.” 

She was holding his hand again, even if he couldn’t remember her taking it. Strong fingers, and so very cold, grasping tightly. He tried not to wince openly, even if it hurt a little. _Show no weakness._

“Yes,” The woman said, as if she’d heard him. “Very good, little one. Come now, come into my home.” There was a crackling sound in the air, as of ice snapping and breaking, and now they were someplace else, in a vast room made of ice. Murky, greyish green ice made up the floor, there were thick columns and a domed ceiling. Statues of ice stood along the walls, men, elves, dwarves and many others, frozen in odd, twisted positions and with pained looks on their faces. Sharp icicles forming glittering sconces burning with pale flames that gave off no warmth, and there was a throne. It was ice as well, as was everything here, jagged spikes shooting out of top of it, the seat broad and shining, reflecting the light. 

“Tell me, child,” The woman said, pulling him closer. “Where are you from? Where is your home? Where is your family?”

 _No. Not that._

He tried, desperately, to push it away, push it all away, bury the unwanted thoughts and emotions deep within as best he knew how. 

_Feel nothing. Show nothing._

“Yes,” The woman said, stroking his hair. She was sitting on the throne, and he was on her lap – that was wrong, and how had he got here? Why couldn’t he remember it? “Very good, very, very good. You are close enough already, and with so little prompting. The ice and the cold, they protect, do they not? They keep the pain away. If you let them take you far enough, they shall keep away all who might cause pain as well.” Her hand was soft, soothing. Cold, yes. But somehow that no longer mattered. He was leaning against her, and it was difficult to keep his eyes open. “Here, little one. Let me tell you a story. I was once much as you are, lost and lonely, abandoned and unwanted, a wandering waif. But I came into my power, and it made me strong, as you see. I made all this, this beautiful place, and I have ruled here for a long time. I need little company, most people are vicious and cruel, blind and selfish.” She paused, pulling him even closer, her arms around him now. His eyes were closed, her voice a pleasant hum in his ears. “I saw it all…I had my mirror, my mirror of frozen tears, and it showed me what lurks in the hearts of men. So much darkness, too much to bear. The mirror cracked and splintered, and it flew away on the north wind, a million little shards of ice.” There were cool lips against his forehead, soft and silky. “They flew wide and far, my little shards of icy truth. You found one, did you not, child? I can sense it, I think. A little shard of icy truth, buried within your mind, letting you see the world for what it really is. How precious, for one so young to have seen so much already. I had thought to bring you among my silent subjects, but now I have a better idea.” There was a hand against his chest, and a sharp, stinging pain. “A second shard, my child, my own. It will take some time, but once it reaches your heart it will all be over. No more pain, no more fear, no more doubt. Ice without, ice within. You will be what you were truly meant to be.” She laughed, a sound like falling icicles splintering against the rocky ground. “I never did give you my name, but it no longer matters. Soon enough, you will call me ‘Mother’.” 

-*-

And now here he was, in his bed of snow, deep within the castle on the mountaintop, at the top of the tallest tower. Snow for a blanket, snow for a pillow. So soft, so warm. He sighed. There was a little bit of pain still, but he was going gradually number. It would probably stop hurting soon. He couldn’t wait for that to happen. The voice on the wind was crooning softly, all around him, whispering of cruel deeds, of pain and loneliness. The song continued, turning loneliness to solitude, shutting the pain out, shutting everything out. _No more._

There was…a sense that something was missing, that there was something he should remember, but it was so far away, and he was so tired. So much better to simply rest, to forget. A phantasmal hand, cool and soothing was stroking his hair, and the song was all around, speaking its truths. 

_Feel nothing. Show nothing._

There was…another sound, a distant one. The walls trembled and shook, and there was a powerful surge, rubbing the raw place inside of him, making him choke back a whimper. 

_Magic? Strong. Very strong. But who…why…_

The song was faltering, slowing to a halt, and the hand was gone in a rush of wind. 

_She’s gone? She…who is she? Mother?_

No…no that wasn’t quite right, was it? Now that the song was silent, he could think a little better, but he was so cold, he couldn’t seem to move, or even to open his eyes. Everything was cold, numb, everything apart from the sharp little pain in his chest, working its way inside. Time passed, and maybe he slept a little while, it was hard to keep his scattering thoughts together even though he tried. They seemed to want to drift away in a flurry of snowflakes. The song was still silent, but there was another noise now, a howl of rage upon the wind, and then it diminished into a wail of defeat. 

_Somebody else is here. Somebody came. But who? Why can’t I remember?_

More blankness, thoughts slipping away into the cold, and then…there was somebody. Footsteps hurrying across the floor, angry voice, no. Frantic voice. Snow being brushed away, warm hands against his face and limbs. Warm arms pulling him close, holding him so tightly it almost hurt, but it was a good pain. 

_Somebody came for me._

Smell familiar, yes. Spicy, warm, sharp currents of tingling magic. 

_Edwin? I don’t understand…_

He struggled and finally managed to open his eyes. His hair felt stiff, the strands that were falling into his eyes white with frost. His eyesight was still a little blurred, but he could see, yes. It was Edwin who was holding him, as tightly as if he never wanted to let go, and the look on the wizard’s face was…baffling. But it was there, he couldn’t deny it any longer. 

_He came for me. For me. He wouldn’t leave me to the cold._

Slowly, tentatively, almost shyly, he managed to smile up at the wizard. Deep inside, dangerously close to his heart a tiny splinter faltered and melted as ice before the sun of spring.


	24. Chromatic Complications

**Throne Of Cards 24 – Chromatic Complications**

_I really hope the people who built Watcher’s Keep weren’t building it with divine guidance. If they were, I really have to wonder about just how many sanity points Helm has left, and that would probably lead to him smiting me._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“You have the Scepter Keys?” Rhoda eagerly asked. The small demon was bouncing up and down on her heels inside her cage, shiny shoes glittering like precious gems. “Hurry, hurry, use them at once! Once I’m released, the portal to the next level will open.”

“In a bit,” Zaerini said, trying to sound calmer than she felt. On one hand, they needed to hurry to reach the lowest level and the Imprisoned One, whatever he, she or it might be before it broke free. On the other hand, she was as sure that Rhoda the Chromatic Councilor would attack them the moment she was released, and she didn’t doubt that the demon would be a formidable foe. 

_We could do with a rest, but we may not have the time for that._

She turned her head slightly to give Dekaras a surreptitious look. He seemed recovered from his ordeal in the Frost Castle, and Viconia had certainly been confident that the damage caused had been healed. Even so, she couldn’t quite forget the way he had looked, half buried in snow, hair white with gathering frost, skin almost grey. He was walking without support by now, but he seemed quiet, a little too quiet even for him, and now and again she had spotted him watching them all, looking as if he was trying to solve a complicated puzzle. 

_The kitten is as well as he can be under the circumstances_ , Softpaws said. She twined herself around the boy’s legs until he reached down to pet her. Rini thought she could see him smiling a little. _Let me keep an eye on him. Oh, and the monkey, I suppose. We can reach him in ways you cannot._

_You can? Like with Edwin, you mean? You can talk to him?_

_Hsst, no, not that way. That old hurt is in the way, he cannot hear us as he should. But we can sense him after a fashion. How he feels. And we can help in our own way._

Rini nodded slightly. The cat had managed to coax the boy into picking her up by now and was being carefully petted. Meanwhile, Insufferable had climbed onto his shoulder, as he often did with Edwin, and was tugging on his hair, chattering eagerly. 

_All right. Anything you can do to help is bound to be good. Try to keep him out of the way when the demon comes out, would you?_

“Awww, what’s the matter?” Rhoda crooned, twirling her blonde pigtails. “Did the little Elemental Wizards tire you out, hm? And here I thought I’d softened them up nicely for you over the last few decades.”

“So that _was_ you,” Zaerini said, nodding with satisfaction. “I figured as much; it was all so convenient the way they all got paranoid about each other at the same time. So, you can affect things outside your cage after all then?”

“Just a little bit,” Rhoda said with a sweet smile, blue eyes glittering. “Some imps owed me a few favors, and the wizards had grown just lax enough that their power no longer prevented me from collecting on those favors.” She skipped back and forth inside her cage, hugging herself with glee. “Can you guess what I did? Can you, can you?”

“You sent poisoned apples under a fake name to the Air Wizard,” Imoen said. “I guess she’s pretty trusting, she never thought that it might be somebody other than the Poison Wizard.” 

“You fooled the Poison Wizard into thinking she was attacked by the minions of the Fire Wizard,” Viconia said. “I assume your imps were disguised by an illusion spell for that, or that they brought friends. Either way it worked.”

“Leaving some carefully constructed golem tracks behind after your imps rained rocks down upon the Fire Wizard would have been a ludicrously simple task as well,” Edwin said with a small sneer upon his face. “Then again, I should not be surprised a woman attended by an army of rodents would fall for such a childish ploy. (An army of fierce monkeys now, perhaps winged ones? That might prove suitably fearful.)” 

“Oh well done!” Rhoda chirped. “And the Frost Wizard?”

Rini hurried to take Edwin’s hand and give it a quick squeeze. The wizard’s face was going pale with barely suppressed rage once again, his lips tightening. “We didn’t really spend any time talking to the Frost Wizard,” She said. “Our meeting was...too brief for that.” 

“Huh. Well, I’ll tell you then, since I was ever so very clever, and you all deserve to know! It was a swarm of birds for her.” Rhoda giggled. “They nearly pecked her eyes out and she blamed the Air Wizard, isn’t that funny?”

“Hilarious. So, now what? Do we just insert these keys, or…”

“Not quite,” Rhoda said, her voice suddenly entirely businesslike and serious. “Do you see the four locks? One on each side of the cage?”

Rini looked the cage over. There were, indeed, four locks, all around the cage. One was translucent, flickering in and out of existence. One was dripping what seemed like corrosive acid despite not melting the cage itself. One was glowing white-hot, and the last one was frozen solid. It seemed pretty obvious which key needed to go where.

“Yes?” She asked. 

“Weeeellll,” Rhoda drawled. “Sadly, you can’t just stick the keys in there. The wizards aren’t quite that dumb. They all need to be activated, and they all need to activate at the same time, or they won’t work.”

“And they’re too far away from each other for one person to use more than one key, I suppose. We’ve got enough people though.” 

“Uh uh. Not that simple, sadly. The wizards didn’t want to take chances in case one of their minions got kleptomaniac urges or something…or maybe in case I got hold of their minions, I don’t know. Anyway, the keys are magical of course, but not like some magic ring you can just stick on your finger and hope it doesn’t turn you into a blob of slime – you should have seen that gag, that was soooo funny! You’ve got to use the key, and you’ve got to use it right. So, you need four mages. Or at least four people who know a bit of magic or magic gear. If you can work a wand, you can probably manage one of the keys without explodifidifying yourselves. So come on, let me out already!”

“What?!” Rini protested. “You never told us any of this before?”

Rhoda shrugged. “Would it have made a difference? Either you can open the locks, or you can’t. If you can’t, I guess I’ll have to wait until somebody better comes along, and so do you. How long do you mortals live again? Think we’ll have time for a few games of I Spy before you croak of old age?”

“We won’t be playing I Spy,” Zaerini said, biting back a growl. “Or croaking of old age. Edwin can use one key, and I’ll take another. Immy, I know you’re not mage trained, but you can work with a wand, right?”

“Sure, sis. Plus, our uh, special traits will probably help too.”

“Good, so that leaves only one more. Who could…” She faltered and fell silent as the obvious solution occurred to her. _No. No, no, no and no with a whole bundle of nopeness. That’s just not right._

A small hand tugged on her sleeve, and she looked down to see Dekaras looking up at her solemnly. “I will try my best,” He said, sounding entirely calm about the proposition. “I’m pretty sure I can do it.”

_That kitten is good at keeping his tail up_ , Softpaws approved. _Bit too good for a kitten if you ask me._

“No”, She flatly stated. “We can’t let you do that.” 

“Absolutely not!” Edwin spat, grabbing the boy by his thin shoulders and shaking him slightly. “Don’t think I don’t know exactly what that means, and exactly what it will do to you, because I do know, and never mind how!” 

“I told you, I think I can do it.” 

“Whether you can do it or not is not the issue here, you…” Edwin broke off, and briefly closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. “This is not a matter of a vote of confidence,” He resumed, sounding strained but no longer about to explode. “Were you an adult I…estimate…that you would be entirely able to do it, but that it would leave you briefly incapacitated. As it is, I don’t hesitate to say that I dread the consequences.”

Dekaras crossed his arms across his chest, giving the wizard a mulish look. “Well, it’s too bad I can’t just magically grow up then, isn’t it?” He said, and then blinked in surprise at the way Edwin flinched. “We’re stuck in here, we can’t go back the way we came, so we have to go down to the next level. We need to open this cage to do that, and we need four people who can use wands to do that. I would seem to be the only possible choice for the fourth.” He sighed briefly. “Honestly, it’s simple logic. How hard can it be?” 

“Vic?” Zaerini pleaded. “Please tell me he’s wrong.”

But Viconia shook her head, her silky white hair dancing about her cheeks. “I am sorry,” She said. “Divine and arcane magic is entirely different. I would not know where to start.”

“Big Brother? You poked around Candlekeep and the scrolls there. Don’t suppose you dabbled in magic at some point?”

“I would undoubtedly have been well suited for the field of magic, had I had the time to devote to such studies,” Sarevok said. “But no. Winski said I was so admirably suited for cleaving people in two with my sword that I would be better off sticking with that.”

“Right. That…makes sense. So…”

“Minsc will help! He does not know magic, but he knows the power of Friendship!” 

“And that’s really good of you to offer Minsc, and we all love you for it…yes, you too Eddie and you know it…but I’m afraid it doesn’t solve the problem.”

“I told you so,” Dekaras said. She wasn’t sure if he sounded resigned or smug. Possibly a bit of both. 

“Eddie?” Zaerini said, biting her lip. “I hate to admit this, but I think he’s right. We may not have a choice.” 

Edwin was breathing quickly, and he was looking nauseous. “I…”

“You really needn’t worry so about this,” Dekaras said. “It needs to be done, and I don’t mind doing it.”

“NO, OF COURSE YOU DON’T, BECAUSE YOU NEVER PAUSE TO CONSIDER…” Edwin choked back his angry rant which was escalating into a scream as he saw the way the boy was staring at him in wide-eyed surprise. “Very well,” He said, gritting his teeth. “I would seem to be in Checkmate (And I would gladly pray to any deity that might deign to listen for a chance to repay that at some later date) and I will concede the point. We do need to get past this portal. However, I will insist that you be the last person to activate your key, in order to minimize the strain, and that our healer is on standby.” 

“That goes without saying,” Viconia said in a calm voice. 

“Let’s do it then,” Rini said with a brief sigh. She took the four scepter keys out and considered their respective traits. “Air fits you best, Immy. It’s light and nimble, and usually carefree.”

“Sure, Rini, if you say so.” 

“Dread Wizard,” She said with a half-smile. “Fire is yours, obviously.” She handed the second key over, pausing only to briefly touch her lover’s cheek in quiet reassurance. “Nobody could use it better.” Then she paused, thinking about her final choice. “I’ll take Poison,” She said. “It’s…in my blood. So to speak.” Then she held the final key out. “Vadrak, if you’re sure about this, Frost is yours.” 

The boy nodded, and then reached out his hand to gingerly take the bright blue crystal scepter. “It seems to be covered with soot?” He said. 

“Oh, right. Yes, bit of a leftover from our meeting with Miss Frost. I forgot to clean it up. Anyway, you’ll go last. I’ll call the order out.” She looked around her group of friends. “All of you, be well prepared.” 

She stepped up to the cage, pretending not to notice the way Rhoda was practically jumping up and down or the way her mouth seemed to have far too many teeth. Once she was sure all four of them were in position, their keys ready, she nodded. “Here we go then. Immy, Air!” 

“Air, check!” Imoen said. Her nose wrinkled and she went nearly cross-eyed with fierce concentration. Then the scepter key in her hand began to glow a pale blue, and the glow progressed across her body, making her hand flutter and stir in an invisible wind. “Air, ready!” 

“Poison next,” Rini said, her fingers tightly clutching the bright green key in her hand. Yes, it was rather like using a wand or scroll, she needed to focus her will on it in much the same way. Now she could feel the power awakening, feeding itself back to her and looping around to the key again. There was a slow, insidious heat inside her blood, it reminded her a little of the Slayer change but was calmer, more controlled. It was…intoxicating. “Poison…ready,” She hissed. “Fire!” 

Edwin nodded, and his own key instantly flared up, burning brightly as it cast flickering and crackling flames to the ceiling and formed a burning nimbus all around him. “Fire is ready,” He said, the light reflecting in his eyes until they almost seemed on fire as well. “Let’s finish this.”

“Yes. Vadrak, whenever you’re ready. Frost.” 

The boy stood very still, holding his bright blue key with both hands, and for a moment she wondered if he’d heard her. His eyes were closed, and his face was immobile. Then she saw a glow deep within the scepter key, a blue like the heart of a frozen river, cold as a glacier. It grew slowly but steadily, and still Dekaras didn’t move or open his eyes. She thought she saw a muscle twitch briefly in his cheek as the glow reached his fingers and heard him gasp briefly for air. Then he opened his eyes, and it was her turn to inhale sharply, for they were an unnatural clear blue. “Frost,” He said in a quiet voice. “Ready.” 

“Good.” She nodded. “All of you now, together. Open it up.” As one they moved, and four keys clicked into place, the power channeling through all four of them at once. The cage shuddered, its bars humming a deep tone that made her spine vibrate as it grew louder and louder, not quite overpowering the shrill sound of Rhoda’s giggling. Then, all of a sudden, it stopped. The cage slid open, the four scepter keys grew dark and still, and Zaerini just had time to see Dekaras sag and collapse limply back into Viconia’s waiting arms, his eyes rolled back in his head. There was no time for her to act on that however, because Rhoda was climbing out of the cage, and she no longer looked at all like a little girl. She was growing with every step she took, and when she had fully emerged from the cage, she was a towering monstrosity, twice as tall as Sarevok and with bulging muscles. She was bright red, fire licked across her hunched back, and there was an unpleasantly large number of sharp fangs and claws present. Oddly enough, she still retained her blonde pigtails and shiny shoes. 

“Free at last!” Rhoda said, her voice now much deeper and more sibilant than before. “Oooh, how I have longed for this moment, for all of these endless years of tormented captivity! Now, to wreak my terrible vengeance on all the petty mortals who have demeaned, insulted or enslaved me, not to mention on that pesky Baalor who won the potato-carrying contest medal instead of ME! It should have been MINE! Yes, yes, vengeance eternal! But…” She giggled, and now the sound was deep, dark and unpleasantly wet. “But I think I’ll start with you. Tell me now, little mortal. What will you give me for a basket of kisses?” 

_Of course you will. And somehow I don’t think you’ll start with giving me a pat on the head and a nice reward for the help._

“Your loss,” Zaerini said, her sword sliding free of its scabbard even as carefully prepared contingency spells slid into place. “And the answer is – a bucket of innards.” 

-*-

“So just what are you playing at here?” The speaker looked more or less like an elf, though his bright green hair and eyes would have been enough to mark him as different even without the hint of fangs as he smiled a quick smile. “What’s your game, Oh Vigilant One?”

“Game?” The other entity present in this place replied, his voice mild and collected. He had been watching something, a scene of a different time and place, and now he made a brief gesture to make it pause. “You know me better, Erevan. I do not play games.” 

“Of course you don’t.” Erevan Illesere, the Trickster God of the elves, smiled again, a smile with hard and glittering edges to it. “So it’s a complete coincidence that my…mortal…is currently completely coincidentally wandering around trying to decurse _your_ mortal in some complete hellhole of a dungeon which just so happens to by complete coincidence be named after you?”

“No.” 

The Trickster waited for more, but when no further information seemed to be forthcoming, he snorted with amusement. “Oh, good one. So, it’s payback for that time when I sent your mortal and Tymora’s mortal back in time to Suldanesselar? I know, I know, you were miffed, but I had my reasons for it, you know that.”

“I know that, Erevan. As do I, at this time.” 

“Ha! I thought as much. Soooo…what could it be, then? You’re not messing about in the Bhaalspawn game, are you? If so, you’re late to it, there aren’t that many of them left.”

“Of course I am not,” The other deity calmly replied. “We are forbidden to interfere directly, as you well know, by the direct edict of Ao the Overfather himself. If I thought you were, I would have to…take steps.”

“Mmmhmm. Like that one time with Mystra during the Time of Troubles, you mean?” The elven god’s eyes flickered with green flame. “I heard some of the others started calling you ‘Ao’s Assassin’ after that little spat.” 

“What they call me is irrelevant as it regards my duties. Do not attempt to distract me, Erevan. I am quite busy.”

“Yes, so it seems! Which brings me back to my original question. What are you so busy with, and with my Bhaalspawn no less?”

The other deity smiled briefly and shrugged his armored shoulders. “And I believe I already told you, Erevan. We are forbidden to interfere directly with the Bhaalspawn. So, I am not. I am merely taking an interest in one of my own mortals. If that happens to indirectly affect yours, it is a side effect only.” 

Erevan Illesere floated into the air, curiously observing the scene below the two gods. He chuckled. “Taking an interest, you say. I pity your poor mortal, then. One of your Character Development Schemes, is it? Let’s hope you don’t drive the poor bastard insane; I wouldn’t put it past you. Like with that young Delryn fellow you told me about where you came quite close to making him snap, that was a bit of a dick move on your part.” 

“I did not cause the young man’s sister to be murdered, Erevan. I would not do such a thing.” 

“Nope, but that didn’t stop you taking advantage of the fact to teach him a lesson, did it?”

“One he needed to learn.”

“Still a dick move, if you ask me.”

“It is a good thing I did not ask you, then.”

“So, what is it this time? Or is it a Big Watcher Super Secret?”

“Not as such. He needs to learn a few things, about himself and others. Self-reliance is a trait I encourage, but it can be taken too far and for the wrong reasons. A little moderation and he will be better off for it.”

“Enlightenment through pain, eh?”

“Precisely. A teaching experience.” The armored deity smiled serenely. “It is a shame that it will temporarily distract _your_ mortal from going off to face that invulnerable fire giant Bhaalspawn in open combat, but I do hope that the treasures left lying about my old sanctum will be considered appropriate compensation and apology, as will the chance to hone her skills before embarking upon such a dangerous mission.”

Erevan soared with glee, temporarily discorporating into a whizzing dodecahedron of green energy before reforming again into a mostly humanoid shape. “Oh, good one, good one! Completely coincidentally becoming more powerful in the process, yes, of course. I suppose she’s got a fair chance of survival, better than if she’d gone off to face the giant directly. Apology accepted, my dear Helm.” 

“Such a relief.” 

“So, shall we take another look at the place and see where they’re at? What was it called again…Helm’s House of Horrors?”

“Watcher’s Keep, Erevan.” 

“Same difference. Let’s unpause it and have a look.” The Trickster waved his hand lazily in for what lack of a better word could be called the air, and the scene before them enlarged and zoomed in, becoming clearer and more detailed as it unfroze and started moving through time once again. The two gods relaxed into the more comfortable forms of a green Moebius strip, and a silver triangle with a single blue eye, respectively. After all, if you couldn’t be casual between dimensions, where could you? 

-*-

“YOU GIVE THEM BACK RIGHT NOW! GIVE ME BACK MY SHOES!” 

Zaerini barely dodged a thick stream of corrosive poison and skipped across a few puddles of ice. When Rhoda the Chromatic Demon had launched herself at Sarevok, attempting to strangle or possibly crush him, the struggling pair had ended up on the floor. Sarevok was holding his own at first, and Minsc was attacking Rhoda from behind but was forced to dodge her sweeping tail and enormous wings. The close combat meant that many spells were out of the question, as they would hurt the warriors. Things weren’t made easier by the fact that Rhoda kept constantly shifting shapes. She had started out as a fairly traditional unpleasant fanged and clawed demon on fire but had then rapidly gone on to a crackling sphere of lightning, and a towering creature of ice and rock. That last one hadn’t lasted very long, even without Fireball Edwin had many, many fire-based spells at his disposal. Right now, Rhoda was an only vaguely humanoid lump of dripping green poison, and the fumes rising from her body made the combatants more than a little lightheaded. 

Distracting Rhoda had seemed like a good idea at the time, especially since it had sounded as if Sarevok was about to cough up his lungs. So, when Rini had seen that the demon’s shiny and clearly magical shoes were only loosely buckled on, she’d seized the opportunity to snatch them. This had worked after a fashion, as it meant that the demon was no longer attempting to pound Sarevok into the ground. Unfortunately, it also meant that Rhoda’s lantern-like glowing eyes were now fixed upon the half-elf herself, along with the full force of her unbridled aggression. The demon lunged, her long claws scraping harmlessly across Zaerini’s light chainmail. It wasn’t so much the armor itself keeping her at bay though, but the protective spells, and those would only last for so long. The bard dodged to the side, using her sword to feint and then sent a stream of Magic Missiles straight up Rhoda’s snout. She caught a brief glimpse of Viconia channeling healing magic into Sarevok, who was getting to his feet again and raising his sword. The Drow priestess then slid back into the shadows of one of the side passages leading to the realms of the Elemental Wizards. She’d deposited Dekaras there, out of the way of the fight, and was diverting her attentions between him and the struggling warriors. Given the occasional quiet curses Zaerini could hear her muttering, she thought it sounded as if the multitasking were anything but simple. 

“Catch me if you can!” She yelled at Rhoda, dangling the shoes before the demon’s fanged maws, which were dripping nasty green and corrosive saliva. A memory flashed though her mind just then, of her first few days after leaving Candlekeep, of herself and Imoen all alone in the woods, and yes, of an ogre displaying about as much intelligence as this demon. She nimbly sidestepped Rhoda once again, drawing her further away and as she caught her sister’s eye, she knew that Imoen had to be thinking the same thing. 

Enchanted arrows, streaming lightning, struck home, almost too fast to see. There was a terrible squeal of pain, and Rhoda was down to one eye only. The demon turned, maddened with pain, claws reaching for Imoen who was already slinging her bow back across her shoulder, gulping down an Invisibility potion. However, in doing so Rhoda had left herself open to attack from the side, and now Sarevok’s greatsword bit deeply into her torso, even as Minsc struck at her neck. It didn’t take long for the demon to topple to the ground in a nasty pile of oozing green blood and steaming viscera. As the pool of blood spread, a previously silent and dark portal shimmered into life, opening up the way leading further into Watcher’s Keep. 

“Evil needs no shoes,” Minsc proudly proclaimed as he pulled his sword free of Rhoda’s spine with a cracking sound. “Not when Goodness has its feet firmly planted on its buttocks.” 

“You’re right there, Minsc,” Zaerini said, trying to catch her breath. “I think I’ll just hang onto these instead and see what they do. Vic, how is it going over there?”

“Stable,” Viconia said, not looking up from the prone boy on the ground. “The condition is not life-threatening, but painful enough. Some sedation will be helpful.” 

“I will take care of that,” Edwin said, already hurrying over and preparing a spell. “Let me know if there is anything else I can do.” 

“Not at the moment, no. As I said, he is stable, and some rest will take care of what remains.” 

“This is not a good spot for it though,” Rini said. “There are puddles of nasty goo all over the place. Minsc, would you carry him please? Since we don’t know how much time we’ve got left, I think we’d better poke our heads through the next portal, carefully if possible, and press on as far as we can.” 

“Minsc will be happy to help the poor sick little boy! Does Little Rini wish him to sing a proper lullaby from Rasheman?”

“Er, no thanks Minsc, it’s sweet of you to ask but I think that might give him bad dreams. Let’s just get going now, and let’s hope the next level isn’t as demon infested as this one. Honestly, I have to wonder what exactly Helm was thinking…” 

-*-

“She’s got a fair point there,” Erevan Illsere said, pausing the image before the two gods again. “What _were_ you thinking?” 

“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” the Watcher defended himself. “I wanted the place to be saturated with traps and wards, to make it as safe as possible.”

“Safe.”

“It would have been too, if my followers hadn’t blundered about letting the place get littered with demons. You know what demons are like, they’re almost as hard to get rid of as fruit flies.” 

“Yes, but that one demon, the shoe-obsessed one, you inspired them to have her be the lock to that portal to the next level and to have those nutty wizards guard her cage!” Erevan suddenly had a thought, and his form flickered and sparkled with laughter. “Oh, I get it now. You were drunk, weren’t you?”

“I most certainly was not!”

“You were! You totally were! What was it? Baator Firewine? That peculiar green drink from what’s that place in that odd plane called…Tevinter? Elderberry fungal treatment?”

Stony silence was the only reply. 

“You know, this explains so much,” Erevan went on, giggling. “I’ve had a peek at the lower levels, and now it all makes sense…well I say ‘sense’, but I really mean ‘utterly random mess’, which of course I totally love but isn’t your normal style at all.”

“There is a plan to it all! A carefully designed one, I’ll have you know.” 

“A drunken one, which I bet you scribbled down on a beermat before you paid a divine visit to some architect follower of yours. Ha, and you preaching to your followers about sobriety and not losing control of themselves…you big old fraud! I’m impressed, really I am!” The Trickster smiled a sly smile. “I bet your mortal down there would be impressed too. Can I tell?” 

“No. And don’t you have a plane of your own to stir up trouble in? I need to monitor this situation to see that it turns out as it should.” 

“You’re being very boring, you know that? Fine, I won’t. On one condition.”

The single, wide eye in the silver triangle briefly closed in weariness. “What condition, Erevan?”

“I want to be in on the fun, and you’ve got a better view of this place than I could get from Seldarine reception. So, you’ll let me watch the remaining parts with you, and you’ll conjure popcorn. The lizard-flavored sort, I can’t believe mortals haven’t figured out yet those are the best kind. If you let me, I won’t tell your mortal. Deal?” 

And Helm, The Watcher and the Allseeing Eye, sighed quietly. “Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have mentioned it before, I really love writing Helm and Erevan together, they've got that fun Odd Couple dynamic. Also, for the scene with the scepter keys, feel free to imagine your Magical Girl Elemental Transformation music of choice to go along with it.


	25. True Love

**Throne Of Cards 25 – True Love**

_Some of Imoen’s romance novels insist that ‘True Love will always find a way’. I know that isn’t literally true, but now and then I’ve wondered if some deity or other is setting up a way that’s more of a hurdle race across a moat filled with piranhas. I wouldn’t put it past them. Gods like that sort of thing._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“You’d better run like the wind, run like Yakman runs, swift and fleeting Yakman!” 

“Yes, all right,” Zaerini tried once again. “But from what? And where to?” She decided to go with the tactic employed frequently by people visiting a foreign country and speak very slowly and loudly. “We. Need. To. Go. Down. A. Level.” 

“Down a level! Up a level! Yakman went up many levels, powerful Yakman!” 

“It is no use, sister,” Sarevok said, shaking his head. “The man is utterly insane. You might as well attempt conversing with the wind.” 

“Yes, but remember he’s survived down here for quite some time, from the looks of it. He’s got to know something we can use.” The bard sighed and looked the strange man over once again. An elf in tattered clothing, spattered with blood and worse, his face was deeply furrowed as if the horrors he’d encountered in Watcher’s Keep had etched themselves upon his skin and his eyes shone with the pure light of utter madness. The adventurers had first come upon him as they passed through the portal from Rhoda the Chromatic Demon’s abode and to the next level. This one seemed to be yet another labyrinth, each room a perfect square the exact same size as all the others, and each one with four magical portals leading off in different directions. ‘Yakman’ as he had dubbed himself, had squeaked with surprise and fear at the sight of the armed people approaching and run off into a corner where he was now quietly gibbering. There was a nest of sorts here, a heap of rags which he probably slept upon, and some chunks of meat which might be his food stores. The meat was an odd yellow color and smelled of rotten eggs. 

“Vic?” Imoen asked. “Could you fix him up maybe? I feel sorry for him.”

“Yakman needs no fixing! Yakman fixes things himself, clever Yakman, empowered and forceful yet diverse and intersectional Yakman!”

Viconia shook her head. “I am no mind healer,” She said. “That is a special niche, and not one I have ever devoted myself to. It requires delicate techniques and were I to attempt fiddling with his brain I might well make it come out through his ears.” She went back to carefully watching Dekaras, whom she had set down close by the entry portal. He seemed to be sleeping more or less peacefully, but the look of concentration on the cleric’s face told Zaerini that it would probably be best not to move him further until he woke up by himself.

“Yuck. I guess that’s a ‘no’ then.” 

“Let’s try again,” Rini said. She gripped Yakman by the collar and stared firmly into his eyes until the man whimpered softly. “Yakman. How do we get OUT of here?”

“Aaagh, scary lady, burning eyes like the sun, voice like thunder, do not kill poor miserable Yakman!”

“I wasn’t planning to…”

“Better,” Sarevok said, patting her on the shoulder. “Your eyes were fairly on fire there and you almost have the voice down right as well. Try to get a bit more boom into it if possible to properly put the fear of Bhaal into him.” 

“I wasn’t trying to…” 

“Yakman knows! Yakman will tell! Please spare helpful Yakman!” The elf pulled an oblong…thing out of the filthy rags he was wearing, and which had probably once been a magerobe. It was a metallic device, about a foot long, and it had a shining red gem set into it. There were two hollow indentations next to the gem, which looked as if more gems could be fitted into it. “Scepter Key!” Yakman proclaimed, holding the thing out. “But broken, all broken, work no more, sad and trapped Yakman. Two more shiny stones and the way will open, oh yes.”

“Why do I get the feeling that you have no idea where to find those stones?”

“Scary lady is reading the mind of ignorant Yakman! A goddess she is, true and true, may Yakman kiss her hands before she strangles him?”

“No!” Rini yelped, hurrying to let go of the elf before his lips could get anywhere near her skin. His face was as filthy as his clothes, his breath smelled like a sewer, and she didn’t want to think too much about what kind of meat he’d been eating. 

“Aw, poor devoted Yakman…”

“You will be left with your miserable life at my sister’s convenience, worm,” Sarevok said in a voice like rumbling thunder. “Upon her inevitable ascension you may get your wish, should you have spoken true. Should you have lied, we will return and send your soul screaming into each of the Nine Hells.” He turned to Zaerini and nodded with approval. “Not bad, little sister. Crushing the life out of him with your bare hands is probably not for you, but he was sufficiently intimidated all the same. Once we have the time to spare, I will devote some time to designing some more appropriate armor for you, I find that adds to the full experience.”

“Right, thanks,” Rini said, a little faintly. “I appreciate the thought, but spikes aren’t really me, if you know what I mean. Anyway, we’d better start searching for those two missing gems. I don’t suppose we’re lucky enough to find them in this room?”

“Not here anyway,” Imoen said. She’d been gingerly searching through Yakman’s camp, trying to poke things aside with her bow so she wouldn’t have to touch them too much. “I found a kind of map though…well, more of directions, but it’s pretty much gibberish.”

“Yakman made notes! Cunning Yakman, but he’s forgotten what for! You can have them, as long as you don’t kill Yakman.”

“Thanks, we appreciate it,” Zaerini said. She opened the notebook Imoen handed her and quickly leafed through it. Just as her sister had stated, it made little sense but it was a way to start their search at least. “One more thing,” She told her friends. “Vadrak needs some more rest, but at the same time we need to find those gems as quickly as possible. I think the best compromise would be if one person stays here with him, it should be safe right here since the portal back to the upper levels is close by and Yakman’s obviously been fine. Thoughts?”

“I would gladly stay,” Edwin immediately offered. Then he looked torn. “But…you may need my peerless magic skills also. (If I only had a Simulacrum available, neither of them would need be deprived of my presence.)” 

“Well, it’s hard to know exactly what we’ll need…hopefully nothing at all, but who am I kidding, this is Helm’s mad playground after all so there could be a Demilich or a troupe of dancing dragons around the next corner. I think we’d better make sure to have all skillsets included in the group that carries on. Anyway, I’m only planning for us to go a short way ahead and then come back. He might be well enough to carry on by then. Vic, do you think it’ll be safe?”

“It should be,” Viconia agreed. “As I said before, all he needs right now is rest, I estimate he should wake up in another hour or so. I should go with you, as should Imoen in case we need to disarm any traps. That leaves either Sarevok or Minsc for childminders.”

“I see,” Zaerini said, hesitating slightly. While she’d absolutely trust either the ranger or the warrior to guard against approaching danger, this situation was a bit different. _Still, Sarevok did look after him for a bit before, at least. They seemed to get on all right. And Minsc – well Minsc would rather chop his own legs off than allow a child to come to harm._ “Eddie? You know him best. Which one do you think he’d prefer?”

Edwin hesitated briefly. “Under normal circumstances I could make an educated guess,” He said, “At this particular time…I am uncertain.”

“Minsc will be the guard,” Minsc offered, thumping his fist against his chest. “No Evil Monster will get past the unstoppable duo of Minsc and Boo! Though it makes Minsc worry to let his Witch walk into danger without him, this is important also, so he will go where he is most needed. Also, Boo says he would like a short break to clean his whiskers.” 

_Oh, that’s a good point. Vadrak did seem to like having Softy and Suffy around, so Boo might work as well._

_We could remain behind as well_ , Softpaws suggested. _A cat is worth at least a hundred squeaky meals._

_You know, that’s probably a good idea. You two can stay behind and help Minsc out, and if there should be even the smallest sign of trouble you can let me and Eddie know through our familiar links and we’ll hurry right back._

_There you are, Kitten, you should let me plan these things out for you more often._ ¨

-*-

The first few rooms in the labyrinth were mostly uneventful. Yes, there were a few stray demons, but those were relatively easily dealt with. The room with a strong anti-magic field was bypassed as well, though that one had Edwin in a state of near panic as any spell he would attempt to cast would fizzle uselessly. As soon as they had left that room behind, he was back to normal however, and he kept a mage light flitting around his head even though it wasn’t very dark, probably to reassure himself that everything still worked as it should. It was shortly afterwards that the group ran into trouble of a different sort. This new room looked exactly identical to the others, with four portals, one at each wall. These new portals looked different from the ones faced before, however. Rather than a blank, shimmering surface, each one showed a different landscape, and none of those landscapes looked even remotely like Watcher’s Keep. 

“Read that guidebook again, would you Immy?” Zaerini asked her sister. She didn’t think the relevant paragraph would make more sense than before, but it was all she had to go on. 

“Right,” Imoen said, leafing through the pages. “So, we went past the room which had a great big stone with a sword stuck in it…still wonder why anybody would want to stick a sword in a stone. And we went past the ‘Dead Zone’, that’s the no magic place…”

Edwin twitched silently. 

“And this has got to be the Room of Mirrored Paths, whatever that means. It says here ‘Path is sneaky, path will hide, seek ye a guide from the other side. Strike a bargain good and true, should ye wish to pass the mirror through.”

“That last one is a pretty horrible rhyme,” Rini said, wrinkling her nose. “But Yakman wrote it I guess, so I suppose we can’t expect too much.”

“More importantly, what does it mean?” Viconia said. “That we need to bargain with some creature on the other side of these portals?”

“It sure sounds like that. I just hope it’s not another demon, that’s all I’m saying. Let’s go have a good look at each one, shall we?”

The first portal provided a view of a battlefield. It was raining, and the open plain had turned into a horrible mix of blood, mud and steaming viscera. There were human and elves, dwarves and towering ogres, and a seemingly endless sea of orcs. The clash of sword against sword, the explosions as terrible spells incinerated dozens of combatants and tore chunks of earth apart, and the screams of the dying were all muted through the portal, but that made them no less horrifying. 

“They all look pretty busy,” Imoen said. “Maybe we shouldn’t bother them?”

“Agreed,” Sarevok said. “While there is bound to be a competent person or two down there, they would be as likely to attack us as to negotiate.”

“Good point,” Rini said. “Let’s leave them alone for now at least.” Her eyes widened and she leapt aside from the portal as a contingent of mounted paladins charged straight towards her, screaming war cries. Fortunately, the portal dimmed as she moved away from it, and whatever became of the paladins after that at least they didn’t come through. 

The second portal had previously been a window to a small and empty room, with grey walls of some odd metal. It was so sparsely decorated that it looked almost like a cell. This time around it wasn’t empty, however. A young man was standing on the other side of the portal, staring at it and muttering to himself in a quiet voice. He was pretty handsome, Rini privately thought, with shiny black hair and piercing eyes, but something about the way his eyes were darting back and forth, and his pale face was twitching made alarm bells go off in her mind. He was wearing pure black armor of a sort she wasn’t familiar with. 

“Grandfather?” He hissed; his voice incredulous. “Grandfather, is that you, at long last? I have called for you, reached out for you, for so long, tried to follow your path. You are…smaller than I expected. Has death changed you so?”

_Oh Gods. It’s Bassilus the mad cleric all over again, isn’t it? Can I pull this off I wonder?_

“Well,” She started. “I’m here to…”

“Fear not, young one,” Sarevok boomed, pushing ahead to loom before the portal. “It is I, young…man. Your Grandfather.”

“Ah yes, your voice is just as I imagined it! Are you proud of me, Grandfather? I have cast aside all who would hinder me, devoted myself to the darkest teachings. I will crush all who would stand in my path, ALL of them! The entire galaxy will tremble before me, and it will be all for you. Only give me a smidgeon of your wisdom, please?”

“Certainly,” Sarevok said, nodding. “You have an idea of the proper style, but I feel spikes will add that certain ‘fearsome overlord’ authority to your ensemble. You want a signature move as well. Personally, I was always partial to either throttling people or cleaving them in two.”

“Oh yes, I know!” The young man’s voice momentarily reached an eager falsetto. “I’ve studied all the records available.”

“Well done. I must warn you though, listening to any disembodied voices in your head promising you immortality or ‘unlimited power’ is likely to end in grief.”

“But…”

“Also, be prepared to go down in a blaze of glory if you should fail. No sniveling, no groveling, and no tantrums, is that clear?”

“Yes, Grandfather.” 

“Good. Also, beware any old men with young yet plucky apprentices, particularly if they might be in any way related to you, and make certain your subordinates are all good at aiming…”

“Okay, thanks, we’ve got to go, bye bye!” Rini hurried to say, pulling her brother away from the portal. She just caught a glimpse of the pale young man looking very thoughtful before the view dimmed. “Nope, not that one,” She said, shaking her head. “Well done, Big Brother, you’re an official Evil Overlord mentor now. Let’s hope he doesn’t blow up an entire world or something.”

Sarevok harrumphed. “Well, if you had allowed me to finish without interrupting, I would have gone over the drawbacks of magical doomsday weapons….”

“Never mind. Let’s have a look at what’s behind door number three instead.” 

The third portal shuddered and groaned as Zaerini tried to get a closer look at it. She could dimly make out moving figures behind it, turning towards her. A panicky voice shouted, ‘Hold the door!’ and then lightning crackled across the surface of the portal before it became dark. 

“It seems that one is out of commission,” Viconia said. “I doubt we would have wanted it anyway, what little I could see made my skin crawl.”

“I’m with you there,” Rini said, still staring at the dead portal. There had been…things…inside. She wasn’t sure exactly what they’d been, but she was sure she didn’t want to find out. “Well, only one left to go. If it doesn’t seem like a possibility, I guess we try our luck with the people in that battle and hope they don’t blast us all to smithereens.” She walked over to the final portal and eyed it carefully. It overlooked a room filled with mirrors, hanging both on the walls and floating freely in the air. She could see large windows over to one side, overlooking a cloudy grey sky and the towering spires of a great city. Something floated slowly past the window, a cloud she thought, but then it turned around and grinned at her. There was a persistent sound of ticking clocks and dying mice in the air. “Well, nobody seems to be home,” She sighed. “I guess we’d better…” Then she broke off. Something was happening inside one of the mirrors, a gathering light which now coalesced into colour and solid form. Two people stepped through, one male, one female, one tall, one short. The female looked vaguely familiar, though she couldn’t immediately place her. The male she didn’t recognize at all, but as he drew nearer, she could hear Edwin give a shocked gasp and felt him sag against her shoulder until she had to prop him up forcibly. 

_Great, now what? Maybe we should have stuck with Sarevok’s adopted grandkid after all…_

“Jumping yoghurts!” The short woman on the other side of the portal blurted out, a wide grin splitting her face. “I know you!” She bounced up and down on her feet eagerly, tugging at the sleeve of her companion, her wide blue eyes aglow with excitement. “It’s all right, they’re friends! Well, friends of my Cousin Jan really, but that makes them my friends too even if he doesn’t seem to be around at the moment.” She paused briefly to draw breath, pushing her frizzy white-blonde hair back across the shoulder of her sky-blue magerobe. Zaerini remembered that robe well. It still had silver stars on it, and a purple dragon embroidered on a breast pocket, but now the stars were covered with sparkling diamonds, and there were several tiny demon skulls dangling from the belt. Clearly, she’d been successful in her Planes adventuring endeavors since their last meeting. 

“Ah…Genevieve Jansen, wasn’t it?” The bard said, having furiously ransacked her memory. “Yes, I remember, we met on that trip to the Planar Prison when I was trying to rescue some actor friends. Sorry I didn’t recognize you at first, I meet so many people and it was a while ago.”

“Oh no harm done!” The gnome woman said with a friendly smile, reminiscent of her cousin’s. She was taller than Jan though, almost tall enough to pass for a short human woman. “And please, call me Vivi, all my friends do, isn’t that right, Cupcake?” 

“That’s right,” The man agreed, stepping forward with an equally sunny smile on his face. He was no long-lost Jansen at least, for he was clearly human, fairly tall and gangly, with messy brown hair and pale blue eyes which radiated endless enthusiasm and very little sense. A second mage, he was wearing red robes of the same nuance as Edwin’s. At least Zaerini thought they had once been the same nuance as Edwin’s, but they looked as if their owner had been dragged backwards through a dragon’s gullet and then stomped on by a horde of xvarts. “My, this is an excellent spot of good luck isn’t it? Normally we find backwards-talking demons or possessed paintings inside portals, not good friends and cousins, and…” He broke off and then inhaled sharply. “My word! Edwin, is that really you?”

“Meep?” Edwin said, still sagging bonelessly against Zaerini’s side. His face had gone the colour of old cheese. 

“It is!” The strange wizard pressed his nose against the shimmering force field of the portal and nudged his companion. “Vivi, this is an extraordinary, fortuitous event! We’ve run into nobody other than my very own son, Edwin Odesseiron!”

_Ooh…that explains it. Uh oh. So, this is Eddie’s Other Father, is it? I’d better do what I can to help._

“I’m afraid Edwin’s a little shocked to see you, sir,” Zaerini said with a fixed bright smile on her face. “Overwhelmed by emotion, you see. All we knew was that you’d disappeared while experimenting with portal magic.” 

“Mrrft,” Edwin muttered. “Mglyp?”

“Ah yes.” The older wizard cleared his throat, looking sheepish. “Not to worry, my boy, you’ll feel better shortly I’m sure.” He nodded to Zaerini, speaking out of the corner of his mouth. “He’s always been a bit shy, you see, not as eloquent as yours truly. I am, of course, Galen Odesseiron, former Red Wizard of Thay, currently aspiring Portal Master! I truly believe I’ve found my true calling in life this time, so far it’s working out far, far better than the lion-taming, or the violin, or that one time when I wanted to become a gentleman rogue...that one was a bit of a disaster, really. I can’t _believe_ the fuss certain people made about my…” 

“And I’m Zaerini of Candlekeep,” Rini said, hurrying to get a word in while the wizard was drawing breath. “Adventurer, bard, Bhaalspawn for hire. Oh, and Edwin’s girlfriend.” She snuck her arm around Edwin’s waist as she said that, hoping it would make it easier to prop him up if he should outright faint. 

“Girlfriend, you say?” Galen drew in breath sharply, and then clapped his hands. “Oh, this is absolutely capital news! I was beginning to think he’d bury himself in work and never find somebody special. Er…I assume you are somebody special? As in serious? Because if you aren’t, I’m probably supposed to give you a stern talking to, only I’m a bit out of practice with that since I normally let Madame Odesseiron or indeed Master Dekaras handle such things. But I’m sure I could summon up the proper Odesseiron fist of steel if I absolutely have to…”

“No, no, no,” Rini hurried to say. By now she’d learnt enough about Odesseiron Family Values to suspect that the summoned fist would be very literal, very large and very hostile. “We’re serious. Very. I promise. True Love. Right, Eddie?”

“Yes, yes,” Edwin said, having finally found his voice again. “Utterly and absolutely serious.” 

“Awww, that’s so sweet!” Vivi said, her blue eyes very shiny as she beamed at Zaerini. “Only, I could have sworn you were with this cute brunette girl back then…funny thing, she looked a lot like this guy, only a girl of course.” She eyed Edwin up and down. “Don’t suppose you’re twins? Us Jansens tend to get twins a lot, I tend to think of it as doing our part to fill the world with Jansen Goodness and awesome adventures…maybe you’re secretly a long-lost Jansen too?”

“I’m not a twin!” Edwin nearly shouted; his eyes wild. “Or indeed a triplet, quadruplet or part of any…Jansen litter. And that woman was…an irrelevant anomaly, and one I think we needn’t mention again, thank you very much.” He took a deep breath and turned to Galen again. “I…am relieved to see you alive and well. Mother said you had disappeared under rather dramatic circumstances while experimenting with portal magic, and that nobody had been able to find a trace of you.”

“Right, yes, that…it’s rather a long and complicated story” Galen said, clearing his throat. “Bit of an embarrassment to be honest, not one’s finest hour to be sung about in happy hymns involving sunbeams and chirping bluebirds, to be honest. I did summon a particularly large and powerful portal, and unfortunately got a bit…stuck on the other side. In the Plane of Butterflies that was. It seems that getting myself turned into a human/butterfly hybrid twisted the magic even further, and the more I planesjumped, the further away from home I got.” 

“I ran into him over in Avernus,” Vivi helpfully added. “Now that’s a nasty place, there was this huuuge red demon with stompy feet and he nearly ate us all up, but luckily it turns out that he was allergic to turnips, and it only took him licking my face for him to break out in hives and his throat to choke up.”

“Your face?” Rini said, helpless to stop herself. 

“My new Jansen brand Turnip Titillations perfume,” Vivi explained. “Want a sample? I’m sure I’ve got some left somewhere…”

“Um, thanks. I’ll save it for in case I run into that demon, shall I?” 

“Anyway,” Galen continued, “I found myself stuck. I could open portals to other places, but none to the Prime – that’s what they call our plane, don’t you know. Which is a bit odd when you come to think about it, because it’s not as if it’s the oldest one. Maybe it’s because it’s so popular with tourists, it certainly seems all demons in existence have nothing better to do than trying to get through, and don’t ask me why. Maybe it’s our food they like? Hm, I should keep that in mind just in case portal magic doesn’t work out like I hope, you know I taught Edwin everything he knows about cooking and I could make a mint running gastronomic tours for demons…”

“That explains a lot,” Rini said, a little faintly. Edwin had, on occasion cooked for the rest of the party. He wasn’t a bad cook, as such. Not unless you preferred to keep the lining of your mouth unblistered. 

“Please,” Edwin said, in a desperate voice that sounded close to tears. “Please, get to the point…you got stuck?”

“Right,” Galen nodded. “It seems I can’t go back, sorry about that. Hm, I guess that rules out the tourism business after all, drat.” He thoughtfully rubbed the side of his nose. “Well, it was a bit upsetting at first, when I realized I was stuck away from the Prime forever. Not that this Sigil city is a bad place as such, bit odd but you get used to it…”

“For-forever?”

“Oh yes. Terribly sorry, but there you have it. Chin up, my dear boy, we must both summon the proper firm Odesseiron resolve in the face of adversity and simply muddle through. Er…I hope it won’t make your mother too upset. You probably want to remove all flammable objects before you inform her of my continued absence, she always was a little emotional.”

“Yes…” Edwin said, looking slightly dazed. “I will…attempt to soften the blow.” 

“Good boy!” Galen nervously ran his fingers through his tangled hair. “Oh, and I’d appreciate it if you don’t let her know about Vivi here.”

“Let her know…what…” Edwin’s eyes became nearly as wide as saucers. “You…and the gnome…you mean to suggest you’re romantically entangled with a…a JANSEN?”

“Now, I’ll have you know it was all perfectly honorable and above board at first,” Galen hastened to say. “It was just, after I learned I was never going to be able to return home anyway…and dear Vivi was ever so supportive. Still, I would prefer not to overly trouble your mother.” He hauled a somewhat singed scroll out of his scrollcase and pushed it through the portal. It came out intact on the other side, and Edwin took it with trembling fingers. “I set the legalities up just in case I’d get the opportunity…the marriage will be amicably dissolved on the grounds of Dimensional Incompatibility, she gets to keep the house and all that, it’s not as if I’ll be able to use them anyway, but if she could open up the original portal and pop some of my things through, I’d appreciate it.”

“It really is True Love!” Vivi said with a bright smile. “Remember what I said before when we met?” She asked Zaerini. “I told you about how I’d had a divination telling me I’d meet my True Love in another Plane? Well, I did! We’re…we’re so perfect for each other, it’s almost like he’s a Jansen himself, except better because Jansens shouldn’t really marry Jansens, then you can end up like Greatuncle Sawney Jansen who lived in a cave with his clan of three-headed cannibal children…terribly sad, they even refused to try a single turnip which should tell you all about how deranged they were. But hey, once we get married our families will be officially related, won’t that be awesome?” 

“True Love…” Rini said. She was feeling nearly as shellshocked as Edwin looked by now, and she was leaning almost as heavily on him as he was on her. “Of course. We’ll…just do our best to gently let Madame Odesseiron know then, yes?”

“What a dear girl you are,” Galen beamed. “Now Edwin, your Mother may feel a little overwhelmed at first, but please note that I am also passing the employment contract of Master Dekaras over to her. You know he’s very resourceful and practical, if a bit dour, and you can tell her that she can entirely rely on him to handle any difficulty she may run into.”

Zaerini stared directly into the older wizard’s light blue eyes. They were as clear and open as the summer sky, entirely innocent and devoid of subterfuge. 

“We’ll make sure to tell her that,” She said, rather proud of the way her voice didn’t shake at all. 

“Capital! Now, was there anything we could do for you? You did open this portal for some reason, I suppose? Not that it wasn’t lovely just to chat, too bad I still don’t seem to be able to come through…”

“Oh. Yes. We’re on…an adventure of our own, you see, sir. Magical….research stuff. We were told that it should be possible for somebody on the other side of this portal to…do something to it. I’m not sure exactly what.”

“To align the dimensional matrixes and make them compatible with the nexus node,” Edwin mechanically added, still staring as if hypnotized at Galen and Vivi. 

“Right. That. To help us go through, not to the place you are, but to someplace further into this dungeon. Do you think you can do that?”

“Not the foggiest idea how to,” Galen said with a regretful shrug. “But Vivi is very bright, and she knows more about these things than I do. Vivi?”

“Yes, Cupcake,” Vivi said, patting the wizard on his thigh. “I can sort it out. Are you all set then? Once I do this, I won’t be able to open this portal again, but the one I set up for you guys should last indefinitely. Please tell Cousin Jan I said hello when you next see him! And that he’ll be _your_ Cousin Jan too in not too long!” 

“I think we’re done,” Galen said, nodding. “Well Edwin, I suppose this is it, eh? Remember what I said to tell your Mother, and best of luck with whatever you’re doing. Remember to buy a ticket if I do get those tours started eventually somehow.”

“I promise,” Edwin said. He raised his hand in a hesitant wave. “And…and my best well wishes to you both as well. Yes. Of course. Truly.”

“Here goes then,” Vivi said. “Please pay close attention, Cupcake, it’s not as hard as it looks.” She raised her hands into the air, and silvery sparks started raining down from them, spiraling outwards into a shimmering cascade. “For the Honor of Jansen! I have the POWER!”

The sparks surged towards the portal, spreading across its surface, and when they parted there was no sign of Vivi, Galen, or the strange city they’d been standing in. Instead, the portal now displayed an empty room, but a room which was clearly part of Watcher’s Keep. 

“Well,” Zaerini said, squeezing Edwin’s hand. “That’s that, I suppose. Are you all right?”

“Yes…” Edwin said, staring at the scroll in his hand. “I suppose I am, at that. I…suppose we all are. (And I refuse to ever, ever, under pain of death, refer to the turnip menace as ‘Cousin Jan’)”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may, or may not recall Vivi - but yes, I did have this long term plan in place for her back when I first wrote her into the Planar Prison. 
> 
> Also, Sarevok may just possibly have got himself confused for another tall, spiky and imposing Evil Overlord with a deep and impressive voice. Let's hope no galactic complications will follow!


	26. Wolf in Kid’s Clothing

**Throne 26 – Wolf in Kid’s Clothing**

_I’ve always approved of logical deduction and drawing proper conclusions from the data available. Unfortunately, if one piece of important data turns out to be entirely wrong, this can lead you into the equivalent of trying to navigate according to a map which doesn’t take into account the recently erupted volcano where there previously was a peaceful village._

_Excerpt from ‘Interview With An Assassin’_

“No, you see, it’s only when you’re the Chieftain that you can claim new land. The Witch can swap the squares around, but only when the other players’ backs are turned for as long as you say the rhyme, the Warrior can ally with one of the others in turn for territory and the Peasant basically loses out so when you’re him you need to try to move to another square as soon as you can by throwing your rock so it lands between the feet of the player on the square you’re going to…”

“Minsc is confused, but he will try his best. Boo says he can be the rock to make the game more fun by moving around.”

“That’s…actually not a bad idea at all,” Dekaras admitted. It had been quite some time since he’d woken up with a pretty unfortunate headache and wobbly legs, and while resting had been pleasant enough at first, boredom had set in soon enough. There wasn’t really anything interesting to look at in this room, and while Minsc was friendly enough the young assassin-in-training had been getting quite restless. Playing games had seemed like a good idea, even if the berserker very unfairly had prohibited him from ‘Finger Stab’ after he’d met with some minor difficulty. _I only nicked my finger a tiny bit, and only when I was doing the reverse pattern. How am I ever supposed to learn these things if grownups never let me practice?_ Anyway, there were some games he hadn’t played in a long, long time, and which he’d nearly entirely forgotten about, but speaking in the old language had brought parts of them back, and when he couldn’t remember all the rules he’d invented some of his own. ‘Landgrab’ was a good one, and even if Minsc of course could outdo him by having longer arms to draw the territories on the ground, Dekaras had a far better sense of balance and that meant he was less likely to trip while standing on one leg and lose what he’d taken. By now, the floor was mostly covered with chalk markings, and he thought he stood a good chance at winning. Softpaws was adding some extra challenge to the game by walking all over the chalk and occasionally smudging the borders between territories, and Insufferable had eaten a piece of chalk. Dekaras had been worrying about that, but the little monkey didn’t seem unwell. “Minsc,” He casually asked. “When are you all going to tell me what we’re here for?”

“Oho, no, no!” Minsc firmly stated, wagging his finger. “Little Rini made Minsc promise and pinky-swear. No telling the little boy about the magic book to make him all better.” 

_Ha!_

“Oops,” Minsc said, rubbing his shaved scalp with the palm of his hand, even as Softpaws hissed at him and Insufferable chattered furiously. Even Boo seemed to be rolling his beady little eyes. “Boo says go back to the game and let him handle this. Or maybe tell some stories? There are many good ones about making Evil Chumps becoming Evil Chunks.” 

“It’s all right, Minsc,” Dekaras reassured the large man. “I won’t tell them that you told me. And besides, you only told me that you wouldn’t tell me, so it would be very unfair for them to be mad at you, wouldn’t it?”

“Minsc is not entirely convinced of the internal logic of this argument.”

Dekaras was barely listening anymore, he was that preoccupied with his rapidly racing thoughts. Having excused himself from the game by claiming the need for a break, he sat down on the ground near one of the portals, thoughtfully looking into its swirling depths. The two familiars seemed very anxious for some reason. Softpaws was twisting herself about his knees, and eventually climbed onto his lap to stand on her hind legs and stare at him. Insufferable scurried up his shoulder to climb onto his head and proceeded to tug nervously at his hair. _So. A magic book, is that it? To make me ‘all better’?_ He bit his lip, feeling his heart racing more rapidly. Hope could be a terrible thing. He didn’t want to hope, not again. That would hurt too much when disappointment inevitably followed. _But even so… What else could it be, if not the magic? I’m not sick otherwise, I feel the same as always._ Why wouldn’t they want to tell him though? Did they think he was a silly little child who couldn’t handle failure? And why could he still not remember how he’d ended up in the company of these strange people who supposedly wanted to make him ‘all better’? Poppy had said in her letter that it would all make sense eventually, but right now it felt as if he’d grow old before that happened. Surely it couldn’t do any harm if he were to nudge the process along a little? He’d be far better able to help things turn out right if he knew what was going on, wouldn’t he? Yes indeed. 

“Minsc?” He asked, making himself sound as innocent as he could. “Can we play another game now? Can I choose one, please?”

“Minsc would be happy to! Keeping young minds and bodies sound is of Paramount Importance. And perhaps afterwards, some delicious cookies.” The large man held up his hand to whisper in a conspiratorial voice. “Minsc knows the Secret Recipe for Rashaman Meringue Jam Cookies. Only meant for Witches, but Minsc and Boo saw Dynaheir make them once and remember everything. Would our young friend like to lick the spoon?”

“Um, thanks, Minsc. I appreciate the thought. Wouldn’t it be rather difficult to bake cookies without an oven though?”

“Ah yes, Minsc and Boo freely admit this may be a bit of a hindrance, unless we run into a friendly dragon. Maybe later then. If we can find an apron and a puffy white hat each, then even better! What game shall we play?”

“I rather fancy a game of Twenty Questions,” Dekaras said, grinning. He ignored the way Softpaws was digging her claws into his thigh and the way Insufferable was pulling at his ear. “I get twenty questions to try to find out what I want, but I won’t ask it directly since you’re not allowed to tell me. You only have to answer ‘True’ or ‘False’. Sound fair?”

“Boo raises several meaningful objections to this proposition. See his little whiskers twitch with avid skepticism?”

Dekaras looked at the hamster. Its whiskers were indeed twitching, and its fur was on edge so that it looked like a fluffy ball. It hissed briefly, and for a moment he hesitated, but then he continued. The truth was close by, and he couldn’t possibly bypass an opportunity to get at it, hamster or no hamster.

“But you did promise that I could pick the next game, remember?”

“True! And Heroes do not break their promises, despite the heavy misgivings of trusty hamsters. Very well, we shall play this game.” 

“Excellent,” Dekaras said, feeling a keen rush of excitement. He didn’t rub his hands together, but he had to make a conscious effort not to fidget. Finally, finally some answers. “Very well, here’s my first question. Since you said we’re here to ‘make me all better’, does that mean you all know what’s wrong with me?”

“Oh, Minsc likes this game! Yes, true!” 

_It has to be the magic! What else could it be?_

“And do you all know how to cure me too?”

The ranger hesitated at this. “Minsc is not sure…he knows not the ways of magic, that is for Witches.”

_Yes…they do know something! A spell…or something like that. Something hidden in that book._

“They’re not sure if it will work or not?”

“Yes, although Boo is positive it will, unless we all die first.” 

“That’s…reassuring, I suppose. So, the reason I can’t remember some things, is it because…”

But Dekaras didn’t get to finish the question, because at this point somebody grabbed him by the ear, hauling him to his feet. At first, he thought it was Insufferable again, and briefly had time to wonder if the tiny monkey had been transformed into a gorilla, but then he was turned around and found himself staring into redness. A red robe, covered with glittering gold thread, and as his gaze travelled upward there was an almost equally red face on top. _Bugger it. I was that close too._

“What exactly do you think you are doing?” Edwin hissed, bending closer. The others were also approaching, one by one stepping out of one of the portals, but the irate wizard was occupying most of his attention. 

“I…”

“No, do not bother inventing an excuse! I have no doubt that it would be exceedingly creative, astoundingly fantastical and a steaming pile of bovine excrement to boot.” 

“But…” 

“I said don’t bother! Insufferable told me everything and wasn’t that an enormously riveting narrative to follow as we were racing back here! Did it ever even occur to you that there may be an excellent reason why you haven’t been told everything your insatiable curiosity urges you to poke your nose into? Don’t you remember what the ancient proverb informs us that curiosity did to the cat?”

“Helped it find the hidden cream?” Dekaras suggested even as he carefully tried to get out of the wizard’s firm grip on his ear. It didn’t work. 

“KILLED IT! That’s what it did.” Edwin finally let go, grasping his shoulders instead and bending down somewhat to stare into his eyes. He paused for a moment as if listening to something only he could hear. “I…yes, very well. I may have overreacted slightly.” Insufferable snorted quietly. “Yes, yes. Perhaps more than slightly. Rest assured though, I have good reason for it and intend only what is best. I give you my word, as an Od..as a Red Wizard, that is, that assuming we find what we are looking for and it does what I hope, then I will tell you everything you wish to know, and more besides, and that if we do not find it, you will not benefit in the least from knowing the truth. In return, you will promise not to attempt to worm it out of the meatshield again. Do I have your word, or will you require me to resort to constant vigilance and monitor you every second? (I wonder which one of us would first go insane?)”

“Fine,” Dekaras said, somewhat sulkily. “I promise.” _But I promise nothing about sneaking it out of one of the others. It’s my magic, and if I’ve got a chance to get it back I deserve to know._

“Don’t worry, kid,” Zaerini said with a quick grin, ruffling his hair. “He’s just a bit worried, not really mad. And he’s right too. If we told everything we know right now, you’d probably think it was nuts, anyway. Anyway, we, er, met some helpful people earlier, and the next few portals are clear. There was this kind of minor war between demons and devils happening, we killed some of the later and that made the former happy, so they gave us one of the gems we need to open the next level. Just one more left. Are you feeling all better now? Ready to carry on?”

“I’m fine,” Dekaras reassured her. “Honestly.” He gingerly rubbed his still aching ear. “Well, mostly.”

Minsc bounded over to give him a gentle cuff on the shoulder. “Do not worry, little boy!” He spoke. “Minsc promises to play more later, and he will not forget his promise about the cookies, as long as we find a convenient dragon…”

Edwin sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in…in what was an eerily familiar gesture somehow. Dekaras felt a brief shiver down his back, a sense of déjà vu, as if he’d seen this before…or done it…only not quite like now. _But that can’t be. Can it?_

“Let us just get going, shall we, and avoid any further bouts of Rasheman destructive antics?” The wizard stated. “There are a few rooms of undoubtedly horrible surprises yet to come, I’m sure you wouldn’t want to miss out on an opportunity to get yourself incinerated, incarcerated, impaled or irradiated. (I may invest in a leash yet. By all that is holy, unholy and secular, please let there be no dragon.)”

_Yes…familiar. I can…almost remember. Something. But not quite there yet._

“I don’t know,” He said with a small and mischievous smile. “Personally, I’m rather tempted by the idea to get myself tortured, terrorized, trepanned or transmogrified instead.” 

For a moment, it looked as if the wizard was going to come back with an angry retort, but then he sighed and shrugged instead, a rather exasperated yet amused gleam in his eyes. Seeing that felt…good. Comfortable. Familiar, somehow. It was almost enough to make him forget about wanting to dig the hidden truths out. Almost. The warm glow of that feeling of comfort and security lasted him all while on their way through the previously explored portals, until they eventually stepped through the new one where utter calamity struck. There were a few imps, annoying little creatures with sharp claws and sharper eddies of swirling and chaotic magic around them. Still, they should have been no great problem. The warriors were already moving closer, ready to swat the pesky imps, and then Edwin cast a spell, clearly intent on some impressive feat of massive imp destruction. Dekaras couldn’t tell what the spell was, exactly, it was far above anything he’d ever studied, but it sounded right…yet something went wrong. The spell was released, and the air shifted, blurred, filled with golden light that tickled and shone through everything. When it passed, the imps were dead. Unfortunately, that wasn’t all that had happened. 

_Well, that is different_ , Dekaras thought, feeling a certain sense of stunned shock upon looking down. _I wonder what Poppy would have to say about this?_ Then he forgot entirely about his own misgivings as he heard Edwin scream with utter terror and despair. 

-*-

It had to be a horrible nightmare, it simply had to be. Edwin hadn’t been particularly prone to bad dreams as a child, there had been few things that could even give him pause, much less worry. Perhaps the powers that be were saving them up to make the accumulated experience all the more delightful? To be sure, after his journey to the Sword Coast, the…the various events he had been through had been the cause of a number of restless nights. Right now, he was experiencing that particular feeling of cold dread crawling up his back and settling like a viper in the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. All he could do was stand absolutely still and hope that if he didn’t breathe, it would all go away. 

_Don’t be real. Please, don’t be real._

But no, as he looked down at himself, he was painfully aware of the reality of the situation. He had felt the spell twist and turn chaotically even as he released it, but by then it had been far too late to hold it back. And so, here he was, once again. Rounded bosom, shapely thighs, hair that was longer than it should be, smooth face entirely devoid of its attractive and painstakingly cultured facial hair. He…was no longer a he. 

“Aaa…” Edwin keened, painfully aware of how wrong her voice sounded. “Eee…AAAAAAAGHHH!”

“Eddie?” Warm hands grasping her shoulders tightly. It was Zaerini’s voice, but somewhat deeper than it should have been. The transformed wizard looked up, trying to resist the urge to giggle hysterically. Yes, the others had all suffered the same affliction. The bard was…a rather striking figure, still retaining that signature red hair and golden eyes, with delicately slanted eyebrows and high cheekbones. Definitely male though, features a little stronger than before and….and…oh gods, he had a small and rather foppish beard. _This is so unutterably unfair._ “Edwin!” The half-elf said again, pulling her closer. “Please, breathe. I’m sure it’ll pass soon enough, and we’ll all be back to normal before you know it.” 

“All…normal…” Edwin croaked. “Aha. Ha! Ha Ha Ha Haaaa!” Vaguely, she was aware of her mind buckling and bending under the pressure of this fresh trauma. Soon enough, the cracks would probably form and she’d be able to drift away into sweet, sweet insanity. 

“This is anything but normal!” Viconia angrily hissed. The Drow was a little shorter than before and had the more angular features of a male rather than the rounder of a female, but was otherwise fairly recognizable. Certainly, the outraged voice was. “This…this is an abomination! A travesty! An affront to nature! Turn me back to my rightful form this instant, you…you tinkering catastrophe of a wizard!” 

“It wasn’t his fault, Vic,” Zaerini said in a soothing voice. “There’s something about this room, I can sense it now. That’s what twisted the spell up.” 

Imoen sighed. “Ugh, this is like that time when I tried on that belt from the ogre…don’t suppose casting another spell would fix this?” The thief still retained the signature pink hair, and it looked if possible, even more ridiculous on the young man she had been transformed into. It was shorter than before and standing up in a sort of fluffy mop. A look of worry crept into his wide blue eyes. “Or would that just mess us up even more, and turn us into, uh, goblins or chickens or something? Don’t think I want to be a chicken, really. Can you imagine how hard it’d be to pick locks with no hands?” 

“No more magic in this room,” Sarevok firmly stated. The warrior had retained most of her height and muscles, it seemed, and even if her voice wasn’t quite as deep as before it still had a certain finality to it. She rubbed her hand across her still clean-shaven head, golden eyes burning into Edwin. “This situation is quite ridiculous enough as it is already, but I am still Sarevok, Unholy Terror of the Sword Coast and fully capable of bloody murder. As a chicken I would have to settle for pecking feet.”

“Boo says chickens can go for the eyes almost as well as he can,” Minsc cheerfully added to the conversation. The berserker, much like Sarevok, had been transformed into an impressively muscular woman. She was still bald and tattooed, but now had a bust that looked capable of serving as a battering ram. Boo chirped something from atop her shoulder – had the hamster become a female as well? It was impossible to tell. Oddly enough, Minsc’s armor was now rather skimpier than before. It had a top part and a bottom part, both made from glittering chainmail, and neither of them was very large. Between them there was a stunning display of firm abdominal muscles and smooth skin. 

“Minsc…” Zaerini said, staring in horrified fascination. “What are you wearing? It looks as if it’s about to fall off any second.”

“Oh this? Very traditional Rasheman female battle gear, this.”

“Some traditions,” Dekaras said, “Are incredibly silly.” She…oddly enough didn’t look that different, Edwin thought with the still rational part of her mind. Of course, in a prepubescent child the differences would be bound to be more subtle. Her black hair was longer, and oddly enough twisted into two long pigtails decorated with big blue bows. She was wearing a blue dress too, with ruffles on it. “There’s wild magic here,” She stated, her black eyes more curious than anything else. “I’m sure that’s what caused this.”

“You’re not saying you’ve had this happen before?” Zaerini asked.

“Well, no. Not this. But wild magic is pretty common in Rasheman. I remember one time I ran into this patch of buttercups that had all grown faces. Not very nice faces either.” She paused, and thoughtfully chewed on a nail. “Anyway, I recognize the feeling in the air. I’m sorry I didn’t warn you, but I thought you knew.” 

“Don’t be sorry,” Zaerini hastened to interject, patting the little girl’s shoulder in reassurance. “We were in the middle of a fight, there wasn’t really any time to stop and talk it over anyway. Now let’s just hope it wears off soon.” 

They proceeded to the next room in the labyrinth, and Edwin dutifully attempted dispelling the curse. It didn’t work, of course. She hadn’t expected it to work, not really. _This is it. I’ll be stuck like this forever, like…like the punchline of some cosmic joke._

“You know,” Imoen said with a pout, “I’m starting to think Helm is a nasty poo-poo head. That wild magic room was just mean.” 

“I think it’s pretty clever,” Dekaras said, walking along with no obvious concern. She absently twirled one of her pigtails around her finger. “What I mean to say is, it’d be perfectly safe for the priests, since they’d know about it, but anybody else trying to use magic would get in trouble.” She smiled slightly. “Anyway, all these traps have to mean there’s something really good at the bottom, right?”

“I guess. I still think Helm’s a nasty poo-poo head though.” 

Edwin barely listened. It was hard enough putting one foot ahead of the other, and she found herself frequently stumbling. _Have to keep breathing. Have to keep walking._

_Boss?_ Insufferable pleaded, leathery little hand patting her cheek. _Can you manage?_

_Yes. I have to._

_Only, your head is feeling fizzy and strange, it’s like looking through fog._

_Nonsense, I am perfectly fine. It is a calamitous situation, yes, but I can and will cope with it. I…I will…_

“Right, time for a little breather,” Zaerini said, coming up next to the distraught wizard and wrapping an arm around her waist to catch her even as she stumbled. “Just enough to sit down and adjust” He put a hand to his forehead in a rather dramatic gesture. “Yes, I feel about ready to drop. Help me out would you, Eddie?” 

“Ah…yes? Yes, of course,” Edwin managed to say, sliding onto the floor rather more quickly than she had intended to sit next to her lover, leaning against his shoulder. “Yes, you must not overdo it, of course.” 

“We _will_ fix this,” The half-elf whispered into her ear, that rather silly little beard tickling her skin in a way that made a quick shiver run up her back. “I promise.” 

“Yes, yes, certainly,” Edwin mechanically responded, hoping to keep her voice steady. She rubbed surreptitiously at her stinging eyes, hoping none of the others would see. 

“I know it’s worse for you than for the rest of us. But this isn’t like before. You didn’t use…that One Thing, it was just a wild magic surge.” 

“What thing?” Dekaras curiously asked directly behind Zaerini’s back, making the transformed bard emit a rather unmanly squeak. 

“Er…thing? What thing?”

“That’s what I asked.”

“Nothing, nothing whatsoever,” Edwin hastened to say, coughing to clear his burning throat. “A…a mere reference to a past incident of no significance or importance whatsoever.” 

The girl stared at him for a moment, her black eyes flinty. Finally, she shrugged. “If you say so.” She sat down next to Edwin and gingerly patted his arm. A small hand reached out for his, squeezing it briefly.  
“I…well, I just wanted to say that I’m sure this will all go away eventually. Wild magic does that. So…um…try not to worry too much?”

“Thank you,” Edwin said, her chest filled with sudden fierce warmth. “For the concern. And how are you holding up? This has to be fairly traumatic. (At least it doesn’t seem to have done anything more than to the rest of us, which is one small relief.)” 

She shrugged briefly. “It could be worse. It’s a bit different, but I’m still me and it’s not as if it hurts.” She grinned quickly. “Think I could get away with calling Viconia a ‘lowly male’?” 

“Oh, do,” Zaerini said, his own smile very wide and sharp. He stroked that silly, yet oddly appealing little beard with a diabolical expression on his face. “I want to see this. Ask him to fetch you something to eat while you’re at it. Maybe ask him to brush your hair and rub your feet?”

“My feet don’t really hurt, though.” 

“Not important. It’s the thought that counts!” 

Dekaras nodded and padded quietly over to the other side of the room, where Viconia was sitting, head despairingly in his hands, while Sarevok and Minsc busied themselves checking their armor. Minsc’s armor seemed precariously close to bursting. It wasn’t long before there was an infuriated howl of rage, and Edwin half got to her feet until her lover pulled her back down. 

“Vic won’t hurt a child,” Zaerini whispered. “Yell for a bit, yes. Hurt, no. Plus I bet he will fetch her something to eat, although I wouldn’t recommend you trying the same stunt. Anyway, I wanted to cause a bit of distraction from awkward questions, and one thing I know for sure will be likely to distract Vadrak is the chance to make mischief.”

“Well done,” Edwin whispered back, feeling a surge of relief. “As you say, we don’t want too many questions asked.”

“So…feeling better now?”

“Somewhat, yes. Let’s put it at ‘intense frustration’ rather than ‘abject misery’ for the time being.” 

“Good, that’s what I was hoping for,” Her lover said, golden eyes sparkling. Warm lips brushed against hers. “It’s too bad really…in other circumstances, this could make for a fun change of pace.” 

“Hmpf, thrilling as your enthusiasm is, I would really rather this whole episode pass into the oblivion of the past as soon as humanly possible.”

“Aw, you’re no fun. But fine, it was just a thought, not as if we’ve got the time or privacy anyway. I guess we’d better get going – if you feel up to it?”

Edwin nodded decisively and reached for the slender yet strong hand offered to her. “Whenever you need me to, my Hellkitten.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a slightly modified version of an actual game I used to play a lot when I was that age. Also, Minsc is sweet and kind, and about as good at keeping secrets as Hagrid.


	27. Wild Card

**Throne Of Cards 27 – Wild Card**

_Whatever game you think you’re playing, the most important rule to remember is this: When the pot is crucial enough, toss all other rules out the window._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“Why, hello there. A prime, is it? I _thought_ we'd been drawn into the Prime Material Plane, but I couldn't be sure with all this... interference.

Zaerini took a moment to study the speaker before responding, trying to weigh the possible options. He was tall, that was the first impression, a head taller than Sarevok even. His skin was a bright maroon, he had curved and sharp little horns growing out of his forehead, sharp teeth and even sharper bright yellow eyes. His tail was…

_No. Let’s not go there._

Anyway, he was very muscular, and that fact was very noticeable since he wasn’t wearing a shirt. He was wearing a vest, a very shiny embroidered one, and it had been left open to display his chest in all its sculpted red glory. He had an odd little round hat on his head, and very tight black pants which….

_No. No, no, no. Don’t look. Too distracting. Hm, interesting, having been turned into a guy doesn’t seem to have made me less likely to notice these things…_

The creature was some form of fiend or demon, that much was obvious, and he was accompanied by several others, male and female. 

_Succubi, I think. Just look at those…oh crap. Oh crap, I can’t think straight, and…and…_

The bard smiled a slightly sickly smile and crossed his legs while trying not to be too obvious about it. “Er…hello,” He managed, his voice slightly higher than before, almost sounding like her normal one. “My name is Zaerini. And you are…?” 

_Right, don’t look too much. Not at him, not at them, not at…_

Edwin’s hip brushed against his, and he almost jumped. It felt like fire shooting straight up his spine and into his brain and unfortunately his brain wasn’t the only part of him reacting to his lover’s presence.

_Nooo…ok, I can handle this. Cloak discreetly obfuscating things, there._

“Well,” The fiend said, sounding highly amused. “I am Aesgareth, a Cambion most recently of Sigil, currently stuck here, and _almost_ as happy to see you mortal, as you are to see me.” He sighed dramatically. “There I was, having just set myself up nice and cozy, a full house in hand, Priestesses high, and then ‘wham’, sucked into this little slice of the Pits with no chips on the table. Oh to be sure, my magic still works, but it isn’t enough to open a portal out of here as I’m sure you noticed already.”

“We did,” Rini admitted. “We’re actually trying to get further down ourselves. I don’t suppose you’re able and willing to help with that?”

“Well now,” Aesgareth drawled. “That depends, doesn’t it? You see, I found this little treasure lying around on some poor devil’s corpse…well to be fair he wasn’t poor _or_ a corpse before we finished our game but he really should have known better than to try to much the hand.” He held up a red, shimmering gem, the exact mirror of the two already nestled safely in Zaerini’s pocket. “It seems to me,” Aesgareth said, “That an item as clearly powerful as this, and clearly somehow linked to the broken portal over yonder might be of some use, hm? Not on its own perhaps, but maybe it could…be worked in somehow?” 

“Maybe,” Rini said, relieved that the poker face still seemed to work in male form. “If I had something to work it into.” 

“I will wager this pretty bauble against a way out of here,” Aesgareth said, his smile baring sharp fangs. 

“And what makes you think I’ve got a way out of here? We’re as trapped as you are.”

“Maybe so, but you _do_ have some item or other attuned to the portal on your person, I can sense that much. With your key, I’d be able to teleport myself and my darling entourage out of here in a jiffy. Of course, I _could_ just give you my gem, but that’d mean trusting you, which I don’t. Or you could just give me your key, but somehow, I don’t think you trust me that much either. Or we could always fight to the death, but that’s dreadfully boring, isn’t it? Wouldn’t you rather play a little game like a civilized entity?”

“Careful, Rini,” Imoen whispered, fingers digging into Zaerini’s shoulder. “If he wins, I can see him taking off with the key and leaving us here.”

“True…but I’d like to avoid a fight, if at all possible, you know that. We’ve only got so many spells and so much time to spare, and a kid to look after.” The bard cleared his throat briefly. “What kind of game?”

“Ah yes, I was getting to that,” Aesgareth said, rubbing his hands. “You see, mortal, I’ve recently acquired a Deck of Many Things. I propose a simple, yet exciting game of chance. We take turns to draw a card, and the one who draws highest – and survives – wins the round. Best two out of three is the winner. What say you?” 

A Deck of Many Things. Zaerini had heard of them, of course, but had never thought to encounter one. A highly powerful magical artifact, such a deck of cards was infamous for turning up in the strangest places, never staying with one owner for very long. It could bring incredible fortune or devastating disaster to the person daring or foolish enough to use it. That, in turn, reminded him of his own deck of magic cards, not so powerful as this perhaps, but still anything but ordinary. _I wonder if perhaps I could…but no, that’s a project better saved for later._ He looked around at his companions, searching for approval and then nodded decisively. _If you want to win, you’ve got to play, that’s how it is. We could fight them, and I’m pretty sure we could take them, but he’s powerful. In a game of cards though…I’m willing to take my chances against any monster, demon or god out there, except maybe Tymora._ “All right,” He said, feeling a cocky grin slip onto his face. “I’ll play your little game.” 

“Excellent!” Aesgareth crooned, clapping his hands. “The Deck itself will be the judge, in case we both draw good cards or bad cards, and as I’m sure you’ve guessed there can be no interference from our companions once we start playing.” He slid a large deck of cards with glittering blue backs between his claws, shuffling them almost too fast to see and letting them dance across his fingers. “You can go first. Top card is the one in play. Go on, go on, take it!”

Zaerini reached out, fingers hesitating above the top card, not quite touching it. The cards didn’t seem to be marked in any way, and he’d kept an eye out for bottom dealing. Even so… “In a second,” He said, staring straight into the Cambion’s yellow eyes, feeling his own burn hotter as they sometimes would. “As long as I get to deal when it’s your turn.” 

Was that a flash of anger in the other’s eyes? If so, it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. “It is agreed,” Aesgareth said. “Now, draw, mortal.” 

Zaerini reached out his fingers again. He selected the top card and turned it over, displaying a lifelike drawing of an old man with a long white beard and piercing dark eyes, wearing rich clothes and staring into a crystal ball. The text beneath the image read ‘The Vizier’. Soft, white light radiated from the card, filling the half-elf’s mind and soul with easy calm. 

_I BRING KNOWLEDGE_ , a deep voice sang out, clear and sharp inside his head. None of the others even blinked. _THEY CANNOT HEAR ME_ , the voice continued. _MY KNOWLEDGE IS FOR YOU ALONE. ONE QUESTION YOU MAY ASK, AND ONE TRUE ANSWER YOU WILL HAVE._

One question. There were quite a lot of options there. He could ask how to reach the lowest floor of Watcher’s Keep for one thing, but the answer might be something annoying like ‘Through the portals’. Or he could ask ‘How do I deal with the power of Bhaal growing inside me’, but that answer might be even worse. No, he needed something more specific. 

_I’m playing a game of chance here. How can I twist chance into certainty, so that no matter the luck of the draw I will get the gem I need from Aesgareth?_

_I HAVE GIVEN YOU THE KNOWLEDGE, CHILD OF BHAAL. USE IT TO THE BEST OF YOUR ABILITY._

Hmm. Yes, there was certainly new knowledge inside his mind. Taking advantage of it would be tricky, but not impossible. He shrugged and smiled again, grateful that the demon couldn’t hear his discussion with the spectral advisor. “Well, that’s a pretty good one, I guess. Your turn to draw, I’ll do the shuffle.” He slid the cards easily between his fingers, letting them fly through the air, catching and releasing, now fast, now slow, round and round, over and under. _Aha, there we are_. Finally he held them out for Aesgareth. The demon frowned, and then drew his card. It was a stylized representation of a raging fire, and it could actually be heard throughout the room, crackling and hissing, the heat coming from the card palpable. “Flame,” Aesgareth said with a grimace. 

“A remarkably feeble representation of the prime element,” Edwin said with a sneer twisting his pretty mouth. “I would be delighted to add some further realism to your experience, at any time you so desire.” 

“Oh, it doesn’t mean I get set on fire, little mortal,” Aesgareth said, his former jovial smile reasserting itself. “It earns me the undying enmity of…well, it could be anything not from the Prime really. An Aasimar, a tiefling, a djinn or rakshasa…” He blew a kiss at a particularly voluptuous succubus. “As long as it’s not my darling little Rosmerta, I’ll live with it. Alas, it seems the mortal has won the first round. Shall we go on to the second?” 

_Careful, Kitten_ , Softpaws warned, her mental voice tense. _This creature is good at what he does, maybe as good as you. He’s got something up his sleeve._

_He doesn’t have any sleeves, Softy._

_You know what I mean!_

_Yes, all right. I’ve got it covered._

_With your sleeves?_

_That too._

“Go ahead,” Zaerini calmly said as the Cambion shuffled the Deck of Many Things again. “Say, tell me if you’ve heard this one before. What do you get if you shuffle a Deck of Many Things?” 

The Cambion hesitated. “I don’t know. What do you get?”

“Why, a Thing of Many Dicks of course!” He paused dramatically. “Please don’t tell me that will summon one now.” 

“Ha!” Aesgareth chuckled. “You never know, little mortal. There are some Things in the outer planes that could make your brain dribble out through your nose simply from seeing them. Now take your card.” 

Zaerini did. This one was a drawing of the sun, bright and golden, with far reaching rays. _SUN_. The voice inside his mind was warm and soothing. _A WONDROUS GIFT IS WHAT I BRING_. Warmth flared up around his hand, a shining light that coalesced into a yellow gem, perhaps the size of a walnut. There was a strong magical aura surrounding it. _A magical artifact of some kind. But what does it do?_ He had barely finished the thought when the light started burning even brighter, flowing all around him, seeping inside of him, filling him. The gem burned like a miniature sun, before it winked out of sight, disappearing entirely. _Oh. Wow!_

The blissful wave of powerful magic faded, and Zaerini blinked. Something was different. No, many things were different. _Oh, thank the gods. I’m back to normal again_. She hurried to look around at her friends, and yes, they were all their proper genders as well. Edwin in particular looked so relieved he was about to faint. _Aww, that’s a relief. I just wish we’d had the time to try the switch out fully first. And too bad that Vadrak didn’t get back to his proper age, but I guess the Nether Scroll trumps even this artifact._

“A high card!” Aesgareth said, leaning forward. His fangs bit slightly into his lower lip as he smiled, and there was a brief whiff of sulphur cologne. “And such interesting mortals you prove to be, even more so than before! Let us see, can I beat this?”

“Guess we’ll find out,” Rini agreed, quickly shuffling the cards for a second time, speaking as she did so. This draw could go either way, but preparation was key. She wanted to get the demon used to her moving and speaking as she shuffled, after all. “Hey, I’ve got another one for you. What do you call a witless mindflayer?”

“I…don’t know?” Aesgareth said, watching her curiously. 

“A Sillythid of course!” Rini said with a wink and a smile, making the cards come to a halt as the Cambion let out another deep laugh. 

“That one was fairly horrible, yet oddly amusing,” He said. “You mortals do get up to the most peculiar antics, do you not? Very well, it is my turn.” He picked the top card and crowed with triumph. “Aaah, this is a good one.” Silver light shone around him, pale and beautiful, an aura arising from the card. “The Moon. It grants me a wish, you see. Now, as good as your magical item was, a wish is even more powerful, and so I win this round.” He smiled like a shark. “And my wish…is for me to have the better draw in the final round.” 

_Ha. Clever of him_ , Zaerini thought, even as she heard some sharp intakes of breath from her friends. _But we’ll see who laughs last._ “Well, I sure hate sore losers,” She chirped. “So let’s play for the third and last time, shall we?” 

Aesgareth nodded, and shuffled the deck again. “Your final draw,” He said. 

Rini took the top card for the third time. This time, it was a grinning skull, with black eye sockets staring up at her. _Is that you, my sire?_

_I AM THE SKULL_ , a dry voice hissed inside her head. _YOUR CHALLENGE IS THIS – FACE ME ON YOUR OWN, OR PERISH. IF YOUR COMRADES SEEK TO INTERFERE, THEY WILL ALL DIE._

“Guys,” The bard warned, not taking her eyes off the card she was holding. Something was rising up out of it, a hissing plume of smoke. “Whatever you do, stay back, or we’re all dead. This one is all mine.” The smoke was turning into a shape now, a vaguely humanoid shape with black blobs for eyes, a gaping mouth and a gaunt face. There were tendrils of smoke for fingers, giving off an icy cold, reaching out for her. Letting herself get touched by them probably wouldn’t be a good idea. Quickly discarding the idea of using her sword, she instead reached for a slim white wand hanging from her belt. A column of fire enshrouded the shrieking wraith, and when it faded away only a pile of ashes and a lingering smell of smoke remained. _Heh, there goes another wand, but it did the job at least._

“And now it is my turn,” Aesgareth said, fairly oozing affability. “My, oh my, how will this turn out, I wonder? You do know that Wishes are infallible, yes?”

“What can I say,” Rini said with a shrug. “I’m all sportsmanlike and enjoy the noble art of cartomancy?”

“That’s Divination using playing cards, not gambling.”

“Ooops? Well, I enjoy both then.” She smiled, putting as much warmth into it as she could, practically feeling the stars in her eyes. “Here’s to lucky third.” She started shuffling the deck for the final time, fingers flying almost too fast to see. “Knock knock!” She cheerfully said, tapping the deck of cards to masque how the card she’d secreted up her sleeve slid down into place. 

“Er…who’s there?” Aesgareth said, scratching between his horns in confusion. 

“Will.”

“Will…Will who?” The Cambion said, looking even more puzzled than before. 

“Will you look at that, this isn’t even a door!” 

“ARGH!” Aesgareth groaned in frustration. “That’s…that’s just horrible!” He snatched the top card from the deck, barely even looking at it. 

_Gotcha!_

“Ha!” Aesgareth boasted, brandishing the card. Rini could just make out a picture of a set of scales, already starting to glow with a copper light. “Balance, and that clearly beats Skull, making me the winner! My Wish came true!”

“Oh, sure, sure,” Zaerini said, barely able to masque her glee. “But aren’t you forgetting something?”

“What? I, the Great Aesgareth, have an excellent memory! I forget nothing!” 

“Really? Then what does the Balance card do?”

“Why, that is simple! It completely shifts around the moral outlook of the person who draws it, and…and…” The demon’s eyes widened. “Oh no,” He said in a very small voice. 

“Oh YES! Feeling guilty yet about trying to cheat me out of my key?”

Aesgareth’s yellow eyes were filling with large shiny tears, and he was chewing on one of his claws. “I…I…I feel so guilty! I’ve been a bad person, but I want to be good now. I want to be just! I want to be moral! I want to be virtuous and pure!”  
“What?!” Shrieked Rosmerta the Succubus, her hands on her hips. Aesgareth ignored her. 

“I want to hug little children and pet fluffy kittens!” Aesgareth wept. He sidled over with an ingratiating smile and patted Dekaras on the head with a large, clawed hand. “Hello, little child! May I conjure you some candy? No, wait, that’s bad for the teeth…may I conjure you some healthy and nutritious snacks? Carrotsticks? Want to play an educational, inclusive and environmentally justifiable game? We could make a necklace of colored beads! I’ve got some made from imp bones…”

“Touch me again and you’ll be making a necklace from your missing fingers,” Dekaras said. He reached perhaps to the demon’s thigh-level, but Zaerini didn’t doubt for a second that he meant every word and from the way Aesgareth shied back it seemed he felt the same way. Softpaws was crouched on the ground, hissing. Clearly she was wary after the ‘kittens’ comment. 

“Sorry! Sorry, sorry!” The Cambion hurried to say. “I’ve been bad for such a long time; I don’t know how to be good! But I’ll learn, I promise! Think I could make a fine paladin?”

“I’m not really an expert on paladins,” Zaerini said. “But if you really want to do a good deed, you can let us borrow that gem of yours so we can open the portal.”

“Of course!” Aesgareth sang out, nearly thrusting the red gem into her hands. “Here, my dear friend, have it.”

“Why, thank you, dear Aesgareth,” Zaerini said, her smile so wide it felt about ready to split her face. She easily plugged the final gem into the magical key and felt the portal to the next level hum into life even before she saw it. “Can you get back to where you came from now?”

The Cambion nodded happily. “Why yes, I should think so. The wards blocking me have weakened sufficiently that I should be able to get through them. Bye-bye!” He turned to his fellow demons. “Friends! Demons! Darling Rosmerta! Allow me to tell you about the Joy of Goodness and Lawfulness!”

The last thing Zaerini saw before she went through the portal was Rosmerta the Succubus reaching for her whip with a very unsettling smile on her face. 

_Ooops. Guess that bit about the undying enmity is about to kick in. Oh well, that’s the luck of the draw._


	28. Lord Of The Level

**Throne Of Cards 28 – Lord Of The Level**

_‘Invulnerable’ is a word almost as abused and overused as a lone handkerchief in a herd of elephants with rampant flu._

_Excerpt from ‘Interview With An Assassin’_

If the previous level had felt shut in with its maze of identical square and small rooms, this one felt vast. There was an enormous room, so big that the far end couldn’t be properly seen, and the sensation of a great emptiness above. There were tall stone arches far away to the sides, with deep shadows lurking between them, obscuring whatever lay behind. 

“What the…” Zaerini said, stopping short before the portal, the others gathering around her, weapons at the ready. Dekaras peered around Sarevok’s leg, having been unceremoniously shunted to the back of the group. The reason for this was pretty obvious, as there was a pitched battle going on, although for once it didn’t directly involve them. There were two groups of creatures facing each other, both humanoid but neither human. Clearly, they had been fighting for some time already, for the brown stone tiles of the floor were slick with puddles of alien blood and the occasional chunks of steaming viscera. 

_Mindflayers_ , the young assassin thought with rapt fascination as he observed the skinny robed creatures with waving tentacles around their mouths. Their heads looked very much like octopi, and he briefly wondered if they’d taste anything like the fried squid he’d tried once and hadn’t much cared for. The creatures fighting the mindflayers were interesting as well, though he couldn’t immediately place them and promised himself to find out as soon as possible. They looked somewhat more human, but their skin was a strange greyish yellow colour, their ears were too pointed, and their noses too flat, and there was something odd about the way they moved, as if they had too many joints. They were all carrying large, curved swords, and wore tightly fitting armor. 

The mindflayers and their opponents were entirely too busy killing each other to pay attention to the new arrivals, and so there was still some time to watch them and make plans. Dekaras noticed something interesting behind them now, a strange machine of a kind he’d never seen before. It was perhaps the size of a small cottage, made from interlocking plates of reddish-brown metal into a roughly spherical shape and it stood firmly planted on short and stubby metal legs. Its arms were long though, long and flexible with grasping hooks and pincers, and there were pipes on top where hot steam came out, whistling and shrieking. The clicks and whirrs of the moving arms formed a steady background noise to the battle cries and the groans of the dying, and the sharp smell of hot metal mingled with the warm and organic smells of blood and innards. At the front of the machine there was a kind of command central, a smaller area enclosed in glass. Not normal glass, there was a dark sheen to it, and it looked entirely too thick and strong, but it was transparent all the same and Dekaras could see a man behind the glass, eagerly pressing buttons and pushing levers to make the machine’s arms move or fire shoot out of the pipes along the sides. It seemed to be a wizard, a thin man in dark green magerobes. His brown hair and short beard were streaked with grey, and he was laughing, a wild and not entirely sane cackle. 

“Yes!” He shouted, somehow clearly audible despite the thick glass. “YES! Tremble before Carston the Magnificent, Lord of the Level!” 

“Why, the Lord of the Level himself!” Zaerini said, her eyes very wide as she clasped her slender fingers to her cheeks. She stepped across a dead mindflayer, the last one to fall, and craned her neck back to look up at the man inside the machine. “Just the man we wanted. I am Zaerini of Candlekeep, and me and my friends don’t want to trespass on Your Magnificence, we simply want to move on towards the next level down, so if you could kindly point the way…” 

“Hm…why yes, I could,” Carston said. He hunched down, hands on his knees, head tilted to one side with his eyes glittering. “Since you are so suitably humble and worshipful, I will let you know that the portal to the next level lies on the other side of this room.”

“And while that is undoubtedly a small step in the right direction,” Edwin cut in, “We will still require a way of opening it, I presume. So, what will it be this time? Illithid puzzles? Gems? Rods? Forming a collection of all the bones in a Githyanki body?” He gestured at one of the dead grey-yellow beings as he said that. 

_Ah, Githyanki_ , Dekaras thought, pleased to have learned something new. He promised himself to read up on them at some later point, when he got home. _If I get home. No, stop that, it won’t help._

“Interesting ideas,” Carston crowed. “But no. No, no, no. No. The portal to the next level can be opened only in one way, and in one way only. Ta Da!” He pointed proudly at the vast number of blinking lights and buttons, and the rows and rows of levers on the control panels behind him. 

“Let me guess,” Viconia said. “You’re not going to offer to do it, are you?” 

“No,” Carston said, his smile very wide and amiable, yet oddly frozen onto his face. “No, no, I don’t really think so. I haven’t seen any new people around in ever so long, and I don’t want to lose such interesting new playthings already. There are so many fun things I could do with you…and to you. Would you like some more mindflayers to play with? Vampires perhaps? Maybe some of those odd talking horses from that very strange plane…” 

“People are not toys,” Minsc firmly declared. “You are a very Wicked Wizard and you will face swift hamster justice!” The enraged ranger charged without further warning, swinging his huge sword in a mighty blow against the glass windows. Carston never moved, simply smirking in silence, and the reason for that became very clear when the sword slid off the glass with an ear grating shriek. 

“Nice try,” Carston said with a giggle. “My apprentices tried that too, after I discovered this wonderful machine and started…playing with it. It didn’t work for them either.” 

“This machine,” Zaerini said, not taking her eyes off the wizard. “What is it, exactly? What does it do?”

“I’m glad you asked! This is the magnificent machine of Lum the Mad, an artifact of untold power, and I, Carston the Lord of the Level am its undisputed lord and master.”

“Another rare artifact, is it?” Zaerini said, shrugging her bright red hair back across her shoulder. “We do seem to come across them a lot these days. What does it do, oh Carston the Magnificent, and how did you come upon it?” 

Carston hesitated briefly. “I…was exploring this place with my apprentices,” He said. “Yes, I was, though the details of it…escape me for the moment. It has been so long…but I do remember coming across the wonderful machine.” His pupils were tiny pinpricks, his smile the rictus of a skull. “Oh yes. I remember it well. I went inside, to…to explore its possibilities. And I saw. I saw everything it could do. It creates, it summons creatures from the planes, it enhances your natural abilities. As long as I remain within its comforting arms, I do not age. I am immortal. I am invulnerable! I am a GOD!” 

“That’s lovely,” Zaerini said, her face carefully neutral. “Though I have to wonder how Helm would feel about a strange god squatting in the basement of his temple. What happens when you do come out though? Do you age then?”

“I assume so. I haven’t been outside since the day I first went inside.”

“You haven’t? How long has it been?”

Carston giggled, a bright, silvery sound. “Two hundred, seventy-six years, five months, seventeen days and three hours. I’ve kept count.” He giggled again, his nails scratching against the glass. “It closed behind me; you see. There is no door, no way in, no way out. The glass is enchanted, impervious to weapons and magic. But it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter at all. I am immortal and invulnerable and all powerful. My apprentices tried to take it away from me, but I showed them, oh yes. They’re all gone now, long gone, and I am LORD OF THE LEVEL!” 

“You’re the ‘Lord of the Level’ and stuck in a very small box,” Edwin snorted, giving the other wizard a very contemptuous look. “That is just about as impressive as being Supreme Ruler of the Dungheap, you credulous cheat of a conjurer. (Had I such a machine at my disposal, there is no telling what I would achieve, given enough time.)” 

Dekaras observed Carston’s rapidly deepening shade of red, and carefully sidled along one of the thick pillars lining the walls, making sure to keep out of sight. It was really quite impressive, he himself had been told more than once by his teachers that he had too smart a mouth for his own good, but Edwin seemed to take the art of insulting annoying people to new and dizzyingly verbose heights. _I wonder where he learned that. Maybe I should ask him to give me a few pointers._ That said, the consequences of insulting a wizard with untold summoning magic at his disposal were bound to be messy, and he thought it would be a good idea to keep out of Carston’s line of sight. Besides, he was starting to have an interesting idea. 

“You dare mock my magical prowess and mastery of the Machine?!” Carston spat. “You will pay for your insolence! An endless legion of foes for you to deal with, and while you bleed out on the floor, I will be safe and sound inside my ‘dungheap’. Ha! Ha ha! HA HA HA HA!” With that, he started rapidly pulling levers and pushing buttons, and glowing smoke appeared in various places on the floor, coalescing into multiple portals. It wasn’t yet possible to see what was being summoned, but Dekaras didn’t doubt that it would be very nasty. Worse, even though he didn’t doubt that his companions were good at fighting, even very good, Carston would just keep summoning more and more monsters, and eventually they’d be worn out in a war of attrition. _I must do something._ It wasn’t just a matter of self-preservation; he didn’t want the others to get hurt either. There was another reason too, of course. 

“More mindflayers!” He heard Zaerini shout. “Try to pick them off at range if you can, and…oh gods, is that a dragon heading this way?” 

Dekaras dared a quick peak in the direction the half-elf was looking. Oh yes, it was a dragon alright, a large red one, hurrying towards them from the other side of the large room with impressive speed, footsteps like thunder. The air stirred by its vast leathery wings felt like a storm already, and it wasn’t even upon them. _Why isn’t it flying? Maybe it’s too large even for this room, so it can’t get up to proper speed? I wonder how fast a dragon can run? If I knew how large this room is and how long it takes it to get over here, I could calculate it. Wait, why am I even thinking about this when there’s an angry dragon and a dozen mindflayers about? I’d better get moving before it’s too late._

Stepping out of cover was uncomfortable to say the least. He knew perfectly well what would happen if one of the mindflayers, not to mention the approaching dragon, were to go for him. Still, it was necessary, and he wasn’t one to avoid what was necessary. Hopefully they’d be too preoccupied with the adults to worry about a single child though. _Yes, no need to pay attention to me. I’m small and harmless, no threat at all._ He walked slowly, edging around the thick of the combat, trying to stay out of the enemies’ line of vision as much as possible. At least he didn’t need to worry about moving silently, the din was deafening as spells screamed through the air, explosions rocked the ground, battle-cries and screams of dying mindflayers intermingled in a kind of horrific harmony. _Just keep walking. You can do this._

Sarevok’s large sword swept through the air, and Dekaras dodged with a sharp intake of air. There was something in his hair, curling around his ear. Something long, and slimy, and twitching. The severed illithid tentacle finally lost its grasp, fell to the ground and stopped moving. Close by, the illithid crumpled to the ground as well, chest cavity gaping open like a bloody cave as Sarevok swore and pulled his sword out. 

“Get out of the way, fool child!” The warrior shouted, golden eyes blazing with anger. “You cannot help with this!” 

Dekaras nodded quickly, feeling annoyingly weak-kneed with shock at how close that had been. He stepped back a little further, well away from the fighting illithids. Sarevok was right of course, he couldn’t help with this. _Not yet, anyway. But some day._ There was something he _could_ do though, and the close call had only served to make him more determined. He had reached his goal now, and reached out to touch the Machine of Lum the Mad. The metal leg he was crouching behind felt warm to the touch, and quite smooth, but the angle at which it was bent should make it easy enough to climb. Certainly, he’d scaled much steeper than this. He’d have to avoid being seen, but Carston was so totally focused on the controls and directing his summoned creatures that he wasn’t paying any attention at all to what was happening close by. _Keep going. Nice and steady._ He could barely hear the noise of the battle anymore, though he was vaguely aware it was still going on. The world had narrowed down, a clear tunnel of focus. His breathing had slowed, and it felt as if there were a calm and steady hand on his shoulder, steering him on. _I know what to do. I just need to do it. Don’t think about what mistakes to avoid. Think only about how to get it right._

He was on top of the machine, just above the large window to the command central where Carston was scurrying back and forth, like a frantic rat. _No. Not a rat. A person. Remember that, it’s important._ He eased a certain item out of his pocket, a certain item he’d found on the desiccated corpse they had found just inside the entrance of Watcher’s Keep. _Sir Hugo, wasn’t it?_ It felt like it had been ages ago. It was a large diamond, so large it could barely fit in the boy’s palm, and the soft blue glow in its depths definitely carried a low-level magical aura. It was probably worth quite a lot of money, but that soothing glow was the reason he’d filched it. It was…relaxing. Hopefully it also meant the diamond would be up to its task, but he thought it would. _I know it will._ His mouth twitched slightly into what wasn’t quite a smile. _The Wychlaran always did say I had a natural talent when it came to enchanted items. Oh yes._ The diamond cut through the supposedly impenetrable glass like a knife through butter. Unfortunately, he didn’t have anything sticky to lift the circle of glass out without making a noise, so he settled for the second best thing and made the final incision just as Carston turned to chortle at the dragon towering over the adventurers. The wizard never noticed the small tinkle as the glass hit the floor, and he most certainly didn’t notice the small boy quietly slipping through the makeshift opening and landing on the floor behind the control panels. 

_Almost._ The world was silent, so silent, all unimportant distractions filtered out to white noise in his ears. There was just him and the man in front of him, hunched over, hands on his knees as he laughed and laughed. Carston was winning and he knew it. _I won’t let you._ Closer. Just a little bit closer. There was a cool handle between his fingers now. Imoen’s present, a very valuable and above all very, very sharp dagger. _Time is short, but don’t panic. Watch first, move later, like Master Gorbia says. You may only get one chance, so make sure it counts._ Carston was a grown man, even bent forward as he was the throat was probably too high up for a child to reach. Hamstrings might work, but that would only slow him down, and he’d still be able to cast spells. _So I’d better make sure he can’t._ It was time. Dekaras stepped out from behind the control panel, not running, not jumping, just quietly moving into place, and he made his move slightly from the side, just as Carston was turning around, avoiding the thick tissues of back muscles and spine. The dagger slid under the wizard’s ribcage at an upward angle, up and up and inside, just like he’d been taught, and Carston made a strange, gurgling noise as it entered his lung. There were pink and red bubbles on his lips as he tried to speak, maybe to cast a spell. Unable to get it out, he sagged to his knees. Dekaras nodded briefly to himself. If you couldn’t reach properly, changing the game so you could was a good idea. _Still can’t wait to grow taller though._ Not wanting to waste time, his fingers tangled in Carston’s hair, and he made his second move, sliding the dagger across the man’s throat. It snagged slightly on the collar, making the boy frown with annoyance – this was harder in practice than in theory. Even so, the dagger was so sharp that he didn’t really need an adult’s strength to reach the artery. _Tilt the head just so._ He remembered his past lessons and what had been drilled into him. _Don’t let yourself get too splattered._ It wasn’t quite a .perfect kill perhaps, but he still felt a quick burst of pride as the man sagged lifeless to the floor in a rapidly widening pool of blood. At least he had got the job done. The dragon and the mindflayers seemed to have disappeared, perhaps returned to their proper homes now that Carston no longer held them bound, and his traveling companions all seemed to be alive and without serious injuries. Then he noticed that they all seemed to be staring at him, with facial expressions ranging from bewilderment (Minsc) to thoughtful recognition (Viconia) all the way to bloodless shock (Edwin). 

“It’s all right,” He called out, giving them a little reassuring wave. Then he realized that he was still holding the dagger, dribbling blood all over his hand and arm, and felt himself blush slightly. _So sloppy. Good thing Poppy wasn’t here to see that._ “He’s dead, see? Does that make me Lord of the Level now, do you think?” 

“Yes…” Zaerini slowly said. “Yes, we do see. But…”

“I know I promised only to use this in self-defense,” He hurriedly said to Imoen, indicating the dagger again. “But he was trying to kill us all after all. If that doesn’t count as self-defense, I don’t know what does.”

“Yes…” Imoen said, her eyes very wide. “But…” 

“Oh, right,” Dekaras said, as something suddenly occurred to him and he felt a quick wave of mortification. “The proper controls to open the portal. Did you want to question him? I’m sorry, I didn’t have a lot of time and if I’d tried to leave him alive, he might have managed to get a spell off. I really am sorry about that, but I’m sure the combination can be worked out anyway.” 

“That,” Edwin said, speaking very slowly and with his eyes closed as his fists clenched at his sides, “Is not the point.” The wizard took a deep breath. “Come out of there. Please?” 

He climbed out obediently enough, feeling an odd mixture of defiance and anxious concern. He’d done well, he knew that. Not perfect, no, there was definitely room for improvement and further practice, but it had achieved the desired result. So why were they looking at him like that? Adults made very little sense at all. The fact that he found himself caring what they were acting strange about frustrated him even more. 

“Look,” Zaerini said, hunching down so she could look him properly in the eyes. “It was definitely cleverly done. And I’m not ungrateful or anything, it probably saved the day or at least a lot of pain.” 

“There’s a ‘but’, isn’t there,” Dekaras said, inwardly cursing the fact that he felt himself pouting. “I can tell there’s a ‘but’ coming.” 

“It’s just…you could have asked for help, right? Immy could have helped, for one, if you’d thought to ask her to carry the plan out. So why didn’t you?” 

The apprentice assassin blinked, surprised by the question. It was an honest question, and maybe it deserved an honest answer. It just wasn’t one he’d ever really thought about. “I didn’t think about that,” He admitted, looking down. “You were all busy. And I’m used to doing things on my own.” He bit his lower lip, avoiding their eyes. “And I wanted to be useful.” 

“You are,” Edwin sighed, long fingers grasping his shoulders. “Or, I should better say, _valued_. There is absolutely no need to prove it by any particularly daring and death-defying deeds, and I would really, infinitely prefer it if you didn’t try. I am willing to sign an oath in blood to that effect, there does seem to be a great deal of it lying around…” 

“You don’t want me to make myself useful?” Dekaras asked again, uncertain if he’d understood that correctly. 

“I don’t want you to risk your life trying to prove a point! You always…” The wizard shut his mouth abruptly, muttering something inaudible under his breath. “Please just…consult in advance next time. Please?” 

“If it matters that much to you,” The boy said with a small sigh. This hadn’t turned out exactly the way he’d hoped it would. He was feeling exhausted and drained now that the physical and mental tension had left him, and he didn’t really want them to be upset with him anymore. 

“It does,” Edwin said, nodding firmly. Then a small, amused smile crossed his face. “And if you are that eager to help with the mission, there is one extremely important task to be handled before we can progress further.”

“What’s that?”

“Why, tidying up the controls to that infernal machine of course, so that we can tell what is what. Somebody seems to have splattered blood all over them.”

Dekaras sighed in resignation. The day had just gone from bad to worse it seemed. And yet…and yet, deep inside, he felt suddenly warmer than before. 

-*-

“So, let’s see what we’ve got next,” said Erevan Ilesere, Trickster God of the Seldarine as he eagerly rubbed his hands, green eyes aglow with excitement. The Trickster was currently only about an inch tall and was perched on the shoulder of his taller companion as they both watched the scene taking place below them on the Material Plane. “Too bad our gang skipped past the demilich, huh, that could have been a fun battle. Or wait, maybe not with a kid in tow. Got any more demiliches in your holy halls, Oh Mighty Watcher?”

“No,” said Helm with a stony face. 

“Awww.” Erevan leaned forward, his ears growing longer and his green hair fluttering in an unseen wind as he concentrated. “Bet you’re really disappointed they missed that one then, right, Helmy?”

“No. And if you don’t stop calling me Helmy I’ll summon an Eldritch Flyswatter.” 

“You break my heart, Helmy! Well, what about dragons? They skipped the dragon too, didn’t they? Got any more dragons? I’ve probably got a dragon you can borrow somewhere if you don’t.”

“Maybe.”

“Aha! Well goody goody, just as long as you try not to break my Bhaalspawn. So, this is the last level before the big showdown then?”

“Indeed it is,” Helm said, nodding. The Watcher pointed at the viewing screen, where the adventurers were just exploring a large and mostly empty round hall, with rough stone walls and floor. There was an odd contraption in the middle of the floor, a circle with the symbol of the Helm inlaid in the middle, and four metal devices set around it. “There are three seals, requiring three separate keys, and once those are all opened, they can open the final portal. Needless to say, the keys are quite difficult to get hold of, I wanted only my most faithful and powerful followers to be able to reach them after all.”

“Of course,” Erevan said, suddenly sprouting butterfly wings so he could flutter closer to the viewing screen. “So, I’m guessing it’ll be all sorts of super holy and righteous tests then, right?”

“Right,” Helm said, but he sounded just a little bit evasive and the Trickster immediately picked up on this. 

“Or…were you drunk when you designed this level as well?”

“Not at all!”

“Fairy mushrooms?”

“Absolutely not! It’s just…you all are always telling me to ‘lighten up’ and to be more ‘jolly’ and ‘jocular’.”

“So?”

“So, I read this book I borrowed off Tymora, ‘Peppy Party Planner’. I thought if I implemented a few of the games and suggestions it would serve to improve my image.”

Erevan put his hands across his face for a moment, snorting giggles emerging. “Oh Helmy. This ought to be good.” He grinned widely at the screen. “Look, they’re going into the first room! Are those…are those colored lanterns along the walls? With grinning clown faces with glowing eyes?”

“Not jolly enough?” Helm said, frowning. 

“Well…sure. Really jolly. It’s just, from the way the mortals are looking at them, I think they’re getting more of a ‘psychotic’ vibe. Same goes for the way the walls are covered in giant graffiti saying ‘All Work And No Play Makes You A Dull Priest’.”

“A certain amount of relaxation for the body and mind is important so that they can carry out their duties properly.”

“Mmmhmm. And what are those four tall pillars for? Let’s see, red, green, blue and purple. And what does that sign say? ‘Do You Feel Lucky?’” 

“Aha, I’m glad you asked!” Helm said, sounding pleased. “Yes, that’s one of the amusing party games I implemented after I had thoroughly studied the party planner. The idea is, if the mortals play it successfully, and insert the proper colored orbs into those slots over there they’ll win the first key to the first seal.”

“And if they don’t, they…holy smoke, is that an Elder Orb? And a Hive Mother? And a Death Tyrant?”

“Ah. Yes. Maybe I should have put in a warning on the sign about which order they should insert the orbs, that way they would have started with kobolds. Well, no matter, they seem to be doing well enough, only a few minor cuts and scrapes. Oooh, here come the Greater Werewolves…” 

“The ranger’s arm just came off.”

“He’s still good! Look, the cleric is reattaching it even as he’s charging back into battle!”

“Now both his legs came off.”

“Still good! Still good!” 

“Huh, his hamster just…did you see that? You’ve noticed the hamster, right?”

“Of course I have,” Helm said, sounding a little affronted. 

“And what it is?”

“I am the Allseeing One, Erevan. Of course I have. It serves my purpose to allow it. It should be most interesting to see how it plays out.”

“Well, can’t argue with that, I guess. Wow, that’s a lot of blood, but it seems they’ve beaten up all your monsters, and got the first key. No fatalities either, it seems.”

“Excellent,” Helm said, smiling proudly. “Did it seem like they enjoyed the game? Was it jolly enough? Be honest now.”

Erevan looked at the bloody, wild-eyed mortals who had collapsed on the floor while the frazzled and cursing Drow Priestess was patching them up. “Looks like it was an unforgettable experience,” He said. “Maybe bobbing for apples next time?”

“Should I add something in to make it more interesting? A large pool perhaps, some of the apples poisoned, some to heal and cure poison, and perhaps an alligator or two…”

“No, you should just…what’s this then?”

Helm leaned forward. “Aha,” He said, nodding with satisfaction. Below the two gods, the group of adventurers had entered the second of three doors leading off from the main room containing the seals. This room was far smaller, and entirely empty other than its sole inhabitant, a spectral figure glowing with white light. It was just about possible to make out that in life it had been a tall knight with a neat beard and very tidy armor. “Yes, that would be one of my spirit guardians, a very trustworthy follower, steady in his worship and in all ways a model devotee. After death, he was summoned to help guard this place. See, he is explaining to them that in order to get the second key to the second seal, they must pass the tests of Endurance, Courage and Wits. One behind each door behind him, do you see?” 

Erevan scratched his head. “So…as a reward for his lifetime of servitude he got to hang out in your basement for the rest of eternity, just in case somebody turns up who needs to do a quest? Doesn’t seem like a very tempting deal, Helmy.” 

“Oh. Now that you put it that way…I should probably have thought to at least install a scrying screen for him with some uplifting and educational shows. Some celestial choirs, perhaps? That one series…what was it called…’The Adventures of Sir Percy Pious’, I always was partial to that one.” 

Erevan shook his head, grew to match the other god in size and put an arm around his shoulders. “Tell you what, why don’t you let me handle it? As a favour?”

“Why, that is very kind of you, Erevan.”

“As a favour to the poor miserable sod down there, Helmy. He’ll appreciate it, trust me on this.” 

“Hm. As you wish, then. Ah, it seems they decided to start with ‘Endurance’. Pay close attention now.”

Erevan did. “I see you left out the clown decorations for this room and went with moving illusions of cute kittens doing humorous things like falling over or getting scared by butterflies. Wow, I haven’t seen that many cats since that one party Bast threw right before the Time of Troubles, the one with the floating purple pillows, the ones that looked exactly like the ones you’ve got in that room down there…” Erevan fell suddenly silent, and then gave his companion a knowing look. “So, Helmy. Been seeing the Mother of Cats at all lately?”

Helm’s face didn’t move at all. “I have no idea of what you speak. And she prefers to go by Sharess these days, you know that. I just happen to like cats.”

“Mmhmm. Sharess. The Dancing Lady. Goddess of pleasure, hedonism, festhalls, and of course cats. Hey, is that her in the background of one of those illusions?”

Helm’s cheek made a minute twitch. “That is highly unlikely.”

“It is! I recognize that tattoo of a panther down the small of her back. Bet she snuck that bit in when you weren’t paying attention, oh Allseeing One.” Erevan’s grin nearly split his face. “Then again, maybe you were paying attention to other things than the recording.” He dodged as a ball of glowing energy whistled past his head. “Tsk tsk, tetchy tetchy! Fine, I won’t tease. At least my Bhaalspawn seems to approve of the kitties, but I think the overload of cuteness may be about to give her brother an aneurysm. So that’s the decorations, but what about the game in this room?”

“I’m glad you asked! As I said, this is the ‘Endurance’ room, so the game had to reflect that. I thought about summoning a horde of random orc warlords in, but then I thought that seemed a bit dull and…samey. So, I took a different approach instead.”  
Erevan peered at the screen. There were now a bunch of illusionary people standing around in the room, men, women, children and assorted others, all with blankly cheerful faces.

“Um, Helmy? What are those? A legion of demons in disguise or….”

“They’re quest givers, you see. See, once our players go after the key, they start with that one, he wants them to deliver a letter to his auntie who is standing three feet away from him. She in turn will want them to take a bouquet of flowers and a small cheese to her brother who is in the Dark Forest – that’s that pile of pillows over there – and he will want them to go back to the first man to tell him to tell the aunt that she needs to send a letter to that fat priest over there. Of course, if they get anything wrong they will have to start over from the beginning…”

“Yes, yes! I get the picture! But why?”

“I am glad you asked,” Helm said, nodding. “You see, if they fulfill the entire quest chain and all ludicrous requests, they will eventually be taken back to the first man who will reveal that he had the key all along. He will give it to them along with a few encouraging words, five pieces of copper and a pair of old trousers which won’t fit anybody in the party no matter what size they are. The test is Endurance after all, if at any point they lose patience and slaughter the quest givers they will have failed.”

Erevan looked at the screen again. “Well, they seem to have succeeded,” He said. “If just barely, the ranger had to hold the Drow priestess down to keep her from summoning a rain of acid and fire all over the testing chamber. Oh, and I think they skipped a few steps, Tymora’s cute little pink haired Bhaalspawn seems to have stolen the key straight out of the first quest giver’s pocket.”

“What? That’s cheating!”

“Think of it more as a clever exploit of game mechanics, Helmy. Anyway, unless you want to step down there and smite them in person, they’ve got the key.”

Helm sighed. “Oh, very well, I suppose it isn’t entirely against the rules. Let’s see how they do with ‘Wits’ now. I really am rather pleased with how that one turned out.” 

On the viewing screen, the party of adventurers had entered the second door, depositing them via a magic portal into what for all intents and purposes resembled a large house, other than the fact that there were no windows or doors present. 

“It is a small separate plane,” Helm explained. “It functions as a puzzle box, where the aspirants to the key must first find it, and then the hidden door. Of course, this is no mere matter of searching for a single hidden item, or something else simplistic like playing tic-tac-toe with some imp, oh no.”

“It’s a search for multiple hidden items?”

Helm frowned. “Did Share…I mean, did somebody spoil it for you? It really is no fun if you just look the right answers up, you know. At any rate, yes and no. The items they need to find are frequently obscure, and they need to be combined in interesting ways, and then creatively used. For example, the only way to reach the attic is to paint a hole on the ceiling with the Octopus God Ink you can get from the cook, and then to reverse gravity with the Trigger Wand you can get from the Dragonking. He’ll only drop it if you make him cry by convincing him he doesn’t exist.”

Erevan looked a little stunned. “And…then what?”

“Why, when gravity is reversed you fall into the attic, of course. Mind you, they need to apply the Mummified Queen’s Levitating Anti-Wrinkle Cream first, of course.”

“…why?”

“So that they float gently into the attic and don’t kill themselves, of course. Really, Erevan, do try to keep up, it is all very logical. Now let’s fast-forward a little and see how they’re doing.” The Watcher waved his hand imperiously and the scene on the viewing screen speeded up. “Aha, very good, they seem to have made it through. Time for the test of Courage.” He tapped his gauntleted fingers against the frame of the viewing screen, looking solemn. “I am afraid I found it impossible to make this particular test suitably jolly, since a test of Courage does after all require facing your demons. I had to settle for something more traditional instead, but if they survive, I have tried to make the rewards worth it. Do you think they will mind terribly that they miss out on the jolly?”

Erevan was absolutely silent for a moment or two, watching the serious face of his companion. He was serious, surely? Helm was always serious. There wasn’t even a hint of a tug at the corner of his mouth. Even so, there was the slightest twitch of unease in the pit of his stomach, and he couldn’t help wondering about just who was being tested. 

“Helmy,” He said, slowly and with great emphasis. “I think they will be entirely happy to forgive you. And tell you what, I’ll ask the others to…to go a bit easier on you, let it go about being too serious. Sound good?”   
Helm smiled.


	29. Courage

**Throne Of Cards 29 – Courage**

_Everybody fears something, most of us more than one thing. And while we should try not to give in to our fears, it’s usually a good idea to learn what we can from them. Of course, that doesn’t mean we can’t resent the whole educational experience._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

Alone. That was the first thing Zaerini noticed, as she opened her eyes. She blinked in confusion, trying to clear her head. Her friends had been close by, she knew that, even as she stepped through the door marked ‘Courage’, but now she was alone. She was inside a small, cubical room, with perfectly smooth pristine white walls and floor. There was no door, no windows, and most importantly nobody else but her. 

“Courage is a lonely thing,” A voice spoke. It was impossible to tell if it was male or female, and it seemed to come from all directions at the same time. “Fears must be faced, and conquered, or at least traversed. That is something one must do alone. You may proceed when you are ready.” 

The half-elf hesitated, but only briefly. Clearly this was yet another of the labyrinths of Watcher’s Keep, and as such there was no choice but to go forward. _I hope the others are all right. But I can do nothing to help them from here._

With unease twisting her stomach, she stepped forward, and gently touched the wall with her fingers. It slid apart before her, forming a dark opening. She couldn’t see what lay beyond, but the air felt cool, maybe a little damp, and there was an earthy smell. 

_Fine, I’ll ‘proceed’, but I won’t do it blindly. Courage doesn’t have to mean stupidity, does it?_ She briefly pondered summoning a witchlight to guide her, but decided against it – who knew what might be lurking behind that portal. She settled for a spell of invisibility instead, and stepped through as quietly as she could, bow at the ready. While she couldn’t move as quietly as a trained rogue, she was still graceful enough that she could usually avoid making a lot of noise, and that seemed like a very good idea just now. Immediately after she entered the portal, it closed behind her, plunging her into complete darkness. 

No, not quite complete darkness. There were patches of deeper shadow, and slices of lighter grey. The ground was uneven, but fairly soft, and there were little rustling sounds around her, one of them punctuated by a brief squeak. The air felt heavy, oppressive even, but she was definitely outdoors as impossible as that sounded. 

_A forest? Or is it just a really elaborate illusion?_ Either way, she figured she may as well head on. She wasn’t really afraid of the dark, and that meant the real ‘Test of Courage’ had to be something else. _Something worse. Worse than mindflayers and vampires and Elder Orbs, even worse than that puzzle with the platypus and the secret message. If I never have to dig through platypus droppings again, I’ll really appreciate it. Helm, you really are a bit of a bastard, aren’t you?_

At least her elven heritage gave her pretty good night eyes, and now she was starting to get her bearings. It wasn’t quite as dark as she had thought at first, that was mostly her eyes needing to adapt after the bright whiteness of the previous room. Also, there was something familiar about this place, it was as if her feet already knew where to take her. 

Sounds, up ahead. Voices, one of them deep and forceful, booming like thunder, and so familiar. Another one, older, but still strong. That voice was also familiar. That voice which had soothed her to sleep so many times, told her stories to waken her love for song and tales, for adventure. That voice which had sometimes scolded, often comforted, and always, always shown her love. That voice which couldn’t be here. 

“Gorion,” She whispered, her own voice no more than a choked whimper. “Father…” 

She had reached the end of the trees now and was watching the clearing ahead. The scene was playing out exactly as she had known it would. There was Gorion, just as she remembered him, his shoulders slightly hunched but his stance determined as he faced his foes. His hair shone silver in the faint light, and he stood his ground against his formidable opponent. Sarevok towered over the old mage, terrifying in the spiky armor which hid his face almost entirely apart from his burning golden eyes, making him seem more monster than man. He snarled out his demand, and Gorion refused, determined to protect the young girl standing beside him, her face white with fear, her red hair looking almost black in the darkness. 

_I look so young. But it wasn’t even that long ago…was it?_

And the scene continued playing out, Sarevok and his cohorts attacking, Gorion shouting to her younger self to run, to get out of there. Gorion was alone now, alone against several, and one of those Sarevok. 

_No! I can’t just stand and watch this! I don’t care if it messes up the timestream or whatever, I have to help Gorion!_

She ran forward, trying to remember if she had any spell memorized which could disable several attackers at once…and froze in place. Her feet seemed locked to the ground, her limbs moving as sluggishly as if she were underwater. She tried to shout, to draw Sarevok’s attention away from her fosterfather, but no sound emerged. All she could do was watch, watch the scene she had been mercifully spared when it first occurred, watch helplessly without even being able to let out the scream that wanted to escape her. Gorion had a fair amount of magic at his disposal, but she could tell, now, that it wasn’t as much as it had seemed back then, when she had thought him the mightiest mage in the world. He made the best of what he had, summoning fire bolts and acid arrows, slowing down his foes. He fought bravely, but he was facing Sarevok now, and Sarevok implacably walked forward, with such strength of purpose the earth seemed to tremble beneath his feet. She wanted to look away, to close her eyes, but she couldn’t. 

_This happened because of me. I owe it to him to see the truth._

In the end, it was mercifully quick. Whether Sarevok had intended it that way, or it was simply a side-effect of his formidable strength and skill with a blade, she didn’t know. She didn’t much care either. There was blood, so much blood, and a horrible wound, but it was quick. 

_I’m so sorry, Gorion. This all happened because of who I am, and I wish I could have done more to stop it. I wish I could tell you that. I hope you’re not too disappointed in me, like that horrible wraith._

Out there, in the clearing, Sarevok stood over the corpse of her father. But now the large man raised his head, seemingly sniffing the air like a hunting dog, and those burning eyes stared straight into hers, all the fires of the Abyss dancing within them. 

“Sister…” Sarevok rumbled, his deep voice almost a purr. “I know you are out there, somewhere. I will find you, that I promise. The only question remaining is this. How many others will try to stand in my way, and fall because of you?” 

_As few as possible, brother. That’s my promise._

The scene shifted, the forest blurring around her, fading away. For one moment, one brief moment of hoped, she dared to think it was all over, that she’d passed the test. But no, clearly Helm or whoever was behind this wasn’t about to go that easy on her. Dust was stinging her eyes, making her cough, and her ears were ringing with the aftereffects of a thunderous explosion. There was a strong throbbing, deep within her bones, magic singing and beckoning, extremely powerful magic. It was magic she knew very well, and cold dread had her by the throat, making her gasp for air. 

_No, not this. Not this place, not him._

“You dare to attack me here? Do you even know whom you face?” The voice was calm, controlled, and cold as ice. The magic unleashed by it was anything but. Around her a group of men, Shadow Thieves in dark leathers, charged at the masked mage encased in layer upon layer of magical protections. None of them even came close enough to touch him. One man was wreathed in fire, screaming horribly as he charred and burned, another simply exploded, leaving nothing but tiny chunks of meat and a fine red mist in the air. Yet another was sucked into the ground as a chasm opened under his feet, and the earth trembled and shuddered for a brief while after it had closed above him, then went still. One man was petrified, frozen eternally as a stone statue, and one…liquefied, as all bones disintegrated and what remained of him sloshed about on the ground for a mercifully brief moment before it stopped trying to scream.

Zaerini also wanted to scream, not so much because of the horrors in front of her, but because of the horror she knew was coming. She was vaguely aware of her companions by her side, weary and staggering, bruised and bloody. Jaheira’s eyes were dark with grief, even Minsc was looking exhausted, and Imoen…her best friend looked almost like a corpse, as if she wasn’t entirely there.

_No, this is the past, I know it is. Immy was all right in the end, we saved her._

But knowing that didn’t help, not when she once again had to see the Cowled Wizards teleporting in like flies gathering on a rotten carcass, not when she had to see the terror on Imoen’s face as they dragged her off, had to hear her calling out for help. 

_For me. And I couldn’t help her, I was too weak to do anything. She suffered because of me, because of what Irenicus wanted from me. So did the others. Minsc and Dynaheir, Jaheira…Khalid. I couldn’t stop it._

But those weren’t the only ones, were they? No, of course they weren’t. The thought crept up on her even before the scene changed again. She was kneeling, staring at a body on the floor. His face was so pale, his eyes were closed, and his mouth slightly open, baring the sharp fangs. The stake had pierced his heart neatly, and his cherished red robes were a darker shade than normal, and so wet. She reached out, smoothing his hair back from his face, willing herself to go away, to not have to see this again. 

_Edwin._

Bodhi had stolen her love, stolen him because of her, killed him because of her, raised him as an undead to taunt her. So much suffering, because of her. Not because she wanted it, but because of her all the same.   
She looked up, feeling herself trembling with grief and exhaustion. Her friends were there, trying in vain to comfort her. Dekaras was also sitting on the ground, looking back at her as he was being healed and she could see her own pain mirrored in his eyes. 

_Enough. Enough, Helm or whoever is doing this. What do you want from me? To admit I’m afraid of more people I love getting hurt because of me? Because I’m a Bhaalspawn? Well, I am. And I’m afraid of failing too, of getting them killed because I take a wrong turn somewhere, because I’m too weak or make some foolish mistake. And I’m afraid of losing them too, really afraid of that. Edwin especially…I can’t live with losing him again. But what do you want me to do? I can’t help that I’m a Bhaalspawn, with all that comes with it. I didn’t ask for it and I can’t just make it go away. I can’t. I just try as hard as I can not to mess up and hope it’ll be good enough._

And Zaerini blinked in surprise as bright white light nearly blinded her. She was back in that empty, pristine room once again, all the ghosts of the past gone back into the shadows. 

“It will be,” That strangely neutral voice spoke again, from everywhere and nowhere. “It is all anybody can do, mortal or immortal.”

“What…you mean I’m done?”

“You have faced your fears, or an important one at least. You have courage enough to admit weakness and to advance despite it, when you have to. You may proceed.” 

“Oh. Great.” She nervously ran her fingers through her hair, trying to smooth it down a little. They were shaking a little, she noticed. There was another door in front of her now, and she hurried through it, almost stumbling in her eagerness to be done with this place. 

_Kitten!_ Her familiar’s voice sounded unusually loud in her ears, but was a great relief, even more so when Softpaws leapt into her arms. _You couldn’t hear me_ the cat complained. _Are you hurt?_

_Just…shook up. I’ll be fine, I think._

She absently petted the cat, not sure if she was trying to soothe her familiar or herself. Both, she decided. The room she was standing in was empty, but before she had much time to worry over the fate of her friends there was a flash of light before her and Imoen appeared, shuddering with a mix of fear and revulsion. 

“Rini?” She said. “Does turning into the Slayer really feel like all your bones are popping out of their sockets and melting?”

“Eh? Why…”

“I saw…or I mean I thought I saw…ugh I really, really don’t ever want to do that. To be that. Never ever.” The younger girl’s eyes were wide, and her lower lip was trembling. “It was horrible. I wish we could make it all just go away. The whole Bhaalspawn mess.”

“I know,” Zaerini said, hugging her best friend close. “I do too.” Then she startled as another flash of light nearly blinded her, and another, and another. The others were all appearing around her, from whatever personal hells they’d been through. Minsc was looking unusually serious, and immediately hurried to her side with a comment on how he ‘wouldn’t fail his Witch again’. Sarevok’s face was a sickly almost beige colour and he said nothing at all, simply clutching at the hilt of his sword. Viconia made a brief and enigmatic comment about ‘familiar faces in bad places’ and then busied herself seeing to the others. Edwin hurried to take her hand and pull her close, and she worried about how cold his skin felt and the lost, hurt look in his eyes. Whatever it was he had seen; it was still affecting him. Dekaras was the last to appear, and the blank and absent look on his pale face made him look disturbingly like a ghost of a child. 

“Hey,” Imoen said, hurrying over to grasp him by the shoulder, and most likely to keep him from falling flat on his face as well. “Are you all right? Who am I kidding, none of us are right now.” 

“I will be,” He insisted, but Rini noticed that he didn’t protest when Imoen proceeded to give him a firm hug. “Soon.” 

It was at this point that Zaerini noticed the white stone pedestal slowly rising out of the floor. There was a very strange object sitting on top of it, a humanoid skull made of glass or crystal, with rubies nestled firmly in the eye sockets. 

THE SKULL OF THE WARRIOR IS YOURS, HEROES, a deep voice boomed from everywhere and nowhere at once. AS A REWARD FOR FACING YOUR FEARS, YOU MAY PROCEED TO THE TEST OF SPIRIT. 

“Well, isn’t that just lovely,” Edwin said in a voice that could have soured sugar. “Just what we were begging for at this particular point in time, another test. (If Helm turns out to have a secret identity as God of Torment, I won’t be surprised.)” 

“Hopefully this’ll be the last one,” Zaerini said, hoping she sounded more optimistic than she actually felt. “And then we’ll just have to deal with the Imprisoned One, and after that we’ll be all done. Maybe. I hope. And then we can find a temple to Helm, a proper one I mean, and throw rotten eggs on it for putting us through this. Sound good?”

The enthusiastic looks on her companions’ faces were all the response she required.


	30. Tactics And Tenacity

**Throne Of Cards 30 – Tactics And Tenacity**

_Don’t play games with the gods unless you absolutely have to. If you do have to, try to make certain you’re not the one being played._

_Excerpt from ‘Interview With An Assassin’_

After the terrors of the previous room, Dekaras was rather relieved to see that this next one seemed to be entirely empty. Well, not entirely empty. There were no monsters present, which was good, but there was an object standing in the middle of the floor. It was a dark cube, vaguely resembling a table, but there was a glass dome covering it and it was radiating magic so strong it felt like a dull throbbing through his bones. It didn’t seem to be doing anything though, at least not yet. 

“Careful,” Edwin warned. Clearly, he had picked up on the same aura. “Whatever that thing is (And I will determine that with ludicrous ease given just a moment) it is undoubtedly dangerous.” 

“And it’s bound to be part of the next ‘test’,” Zaerini said with a sigh and a shake of her head. “Helm really needs a new hobby. Maybe knitting, or crosswords.” 

“Don’t remind me of hobbies,” Edwin said and shuddered briefly. “At any rate the magic is extremely strong but currently inert. I will need to examine it further.” 

“Sure, just be careful, won’t you?” The redhead gave the others a surprisingly stern look. “That goes for the rest of you as well. Let’s not touch anything and set it off by mistake.” 

Dekaras wasn’t planning to – well, he was curious about the supremely powerful magical artifact of course. After all, who wouldn’t be? But he really didn’t want to do accidentally incinerate or petrify his companions, so he promised himself to be very, very careful and considerate. He even kept his hands tucked behind his back as he sidled up behind Edwin, just to make sure he didn’t give in to temptation. The wizard was standing slightly bent over, one hand on each side of the contraption, staring into the dark glass with a look of intense concentration on his face, but he wasn’t casting any spells so it would probably be safe to bother him. Why bothering Edwin in particular was so supremely satisfying he didn’t know, but it seemed to fulfill some deep need within.

“Are you done yet?” He asked, peering around the tall man’s elbow. Edwin emitted a small squeak and startled visibly. 

“Don’t…by the eternal fires of Kossuth, can you please not do that?” He said in a voice equal parts frustration and fondness. 

“Why?” 

“Because it brings up memories of certain other tests I had to take around your age if you must know, and…and my teacher had a tendency to sneak up on me at just such moments as I was being distracted or losing focus (I still believe the claim he made to want to instill ‘grace under pressure’ in me was just an excuse.)” 

Dekaras pondered this for a moment. “Maybe he was bored?” He suggested. “I think I probably would be, waiting around like that.” He looked up at the solemn wizard. “You miss him a lot, don’t you?”

Edwin swallowed hard. “Yes,” He said. For a moment it looked as if he was about to say something else, but then he shook his head. “And if he were here, which of course he is not, he would be the first to tell me not to put a child in danger. Do step away and let me handle this.” 

“I’m not touching anything, see?” the boy insisted. Why did this feel so important? The magic was fascinating of course, but that wasn’t all. There was something…something he could almost grasp, like a memory slipping away. _Poppy said in her letter there were things I don’t remember. Is Edwin one of them?_ It was no use, whatever the memory was it wouldn’t be forced out. He looked into the dark glass instead, hoping the distraction might help him sneak up on the memory from behind. “Is that a containment field?”

“Yes,” Edwin said, sounding a little curt but not dismissive. Something was affecting him, but Dekaras didn’t think it was the test. “Yes, it is centered on the dome, but I have yet to determine what, if anything, is inside.” 

Dekaras tried to have a look, but firstly he wasn’t tall enough to see very well across the dome covering the table and secondly it was very dark and blurry inside, even with magesight. There was definitely something in there, but the details escaped him. As he walked around the table, trying to get a better view, he found something else though. There was an indentation in the surface of the dome, where something was clearly intended to be fitted. 

“Ah,” Edwin said, nodding approvingly at the find. “Yes, I think we have found the proper keyhole for our rather ostentatious key.” He turned to Zaerini. “Hellkitten? Would you bring me that hideous contraption, please?”

“But Eddie,” The redhead said, grinning widely. “I don’t think we even _brought_ your manicure set?” Then she laughed and held her hands up in a placating gesture. “Sorry, Dread Wizard, couldn’t resist. Here you go.” She brought over the glittering crystal skull she had emerged with from the previous test. “Want me to do the honors?”

“You may as well,” Edwin said, eyeing the skull with distrust. “But be aware, the magic in this area is very strong. There is, indeed, a containment field, and I do believe I detect a spell of transportation which is not unexpected in this place. However, there is also something else, an enchantment I can only describe as highly complex. (Enough to escape me thus far, but certainly not for long.)” 

“Well, we’re running out of time,” Zaerini said. She frowned, but there was a very determined set to her mouth. "If Odren didn’t lie about everything, the ‘Imprisoned One’ is close to escaping so I think we’ll have to risk this.” She turned to the others. “Everybody ready? We don’t know exactly what will happen but given it’s another of Helm’s little setups I think it’s safe to say it won’t be immediately lethal but almost certainly nasty.” There were a few nods of assent and words of affirmation, and then the half-elf stepped over to the table. “Here goes nothing,” She said, carefully slotting the skull into its intended space. 

For a few seconds, nothing at all seemed to happen. Then, the crystal skull began to glow, with a blue light so bright it was almost blinded. Dekaras didn’t want to shut his eyes, he wanted to see what was happening after all, but he did have to squint. The others were blurry outlines against the searing light, and their forms seemed oddly distorted, rippling and crackling with jarring flashes of static. 

“Skull of the Warrior detected,” A calm, clinical voice spoke from everywhere and nowhere at once. “Initiating boot sequence.” By now he did have to close his eyes, the light was that bright. A hand grasped his. Edwin, he thought, and as much as he figured it would probably have been better for the wizard to get ready for battle, he still held on gratefully. “Optimizing player configuration,” The calm voice went on. “Detecting temporal anomaly, query override?” 

Dekaras didn’t know exactly what ‘anomaly’ meant, but he did somehow feel certain it was something to do with him, and that it probably wasn’t something nice. Before he had time to ask any questions about it though, the voice went on. 

“Query denied,” it said. “Superuser ‘Watcher’ directive to proceed. Directions given to optimize configuration. READY, PLAYER ONE?”

The last few words boomed very loudly inside his head, causing him to startle. _I don’t know_ , he thought in response, not wanting to commit himself just yet. _You haven’t told me what to be ready for, which is pretty illogical if you expect a proper reply, don’t you think?_

There was a moment of silence, and then the voice spoke again. It sounded different now somehow, deeper, more masculine, more like a real person and also faintly amused. FOR A TEST OF WITS, ABILITY AND RESPONSIBILITY, it said. WHAT SAY YOU…YOUNG HERO? 

_I suppose I am_ , Dekaras replied. _And I’m not a hero. Heroes tend to take stupid risks and even if they don’t get themselves killed they always end up in trouble somehow._

OH, MY MISTAKE, the voice said, sounding entirely too amused now for the boy’s liking. I DO HUMBLY BEG YOUR PARDON. AND NOW FOR THE GAME…I MEAN TEST. There was a sound in the background, as if somebody was whispering to the speaker. SHUSH, EREVAN, DO NOT INTERRUPT. THE BOY IS PERFECTLY SAFE AND WILL DO WELL AS LONG AS HE REMEMBERS THE TENETS OF THE WATCHER. RESPONSIBILITY, DILIGENCE AND PROPER PREPARATION. There was another brief interlude of whispering. AND A TWISTED SENSE OF HUMOUR…NO. NO, DISCOUNT THAT ONE, IF YOU PLEASE. A whisper of a sensation, as of a ghostly hand patting him on the head. GO ON NOW, CHILD. THE TEST OF TACTICS AWAITS. 

There was a strong surge of powerful magic, enough to make the inside of his skull ache, his eyes burn and his stomach twist uncomfortably. When it subsided, everything seemed just as it had been before, apart from one very significant thing. 

_Where is everybody?_

There was no sign at all of his companions, they were all missing without a trace of them to be found. At first, he waited for something else to happen. Maybe the others had been whisked away by the magic, but he was bound to be taken to the same place, right? Nothing seemed to be happening though, and the sense of vague discomfort grew stronger and blossomed into keen worry. 

_They wouldn’t just leave me behind, would they?_

No. No, that was a stupid thought. For whatever reason, the others had all gone to a great deal of trouble to bring him along with them. They’d tried their best to keep him safe too, even when it wasn’t really necessary and even when they knew he couldn’t contribute hugely. That went for Edwin especially. He didn’t think the others would abandon him either, he was fairly sure of it even, but he _knew_ that Edwin wouldn’t, without a shadow of a doubt. It was a strange certainty, for quite some time now he’d been equally sure that all grownups were untrustworthy at best, hostile at worst. 

_Well, maybe I was wrong. I never said I can’t ever be wrong, did I? I think I’m allowed to be, at least once in a while._

However, this presented another worrisome problem. If the others hadn’t left him behind, then where were they, and how could he get back to them? The strange voice had said something about a test, a test of tactics. He glanced at the dome across the mysterious table again, and now he noticed that something had changed. The containment field was still there, but its surface wasn’t as murky as it had been. Rather, he now had a bird’s eye view of what seemed to be a maze of sorts, a dark place with many winding passages. He couldn’t see where they all led, the table was too big to view at once and the maze was still rather dark, but he could make out the closest rooms. And there, there was some movement, something small, like ants. Dekaras leaned in closer in order to see better, and then his eyes widened and he uttered a rather complicated string of Thayvian words which Edwin would probably have been mortified to learn had been picked up from him. 

It wasn’t ants he had seen, or any other insects for that matter. No, it was his lost companions, shrunk down to miniature size and standing about in a room at one end of the maze. He could clearly make out Zaerini’s red hair, and Edwin’s equally red robe, and now he knew what he was looking for he could see all the others as well. He didn’t think they had seen him – he wasn’t even sure if they could see him from down there. 

_It’s an illusion spell, isn’t it? It has to be. It can’t be real. And what am I supposed to do now?_

“Player One, your task is to advance your party through the maze and successfully reach the other side with minimum loss and maximum gain.” It was that first voice again, the calm and not quite human-sounding one. “You will have full access to inventory and abilities and may adjust them to some extent. Be aware that in order to offer a suitable challenge, limitations have been imposed in terms of appropriate scaling.”

Dekaras wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that. “Are my friends all right?” He demanded. “They’d better be, or I’ll be unhappy with you. I think you probably wouldn’t like that very much, would you?”

As threats went, he knew it was an empty one, it wasn’t as if he could do much to a disembodied voice. Still, the point had to be made. 

“Your companions are alive and unharmed, so far,” The voice went on, sounding entirely unconcerned. “Their continued wellbeing depends on your own further actions. It is suggested that you think things through carefully and play to your best ability. Good luck.” 

The voice fell silent, and though he waited for it to speak again, it did not. It seemed he had no other choice but to play this game, and to play it well. At least he liked games, and tended to be pretty good at them, but the stakes never had involved anything like this before. 

_Well, I can’t stand around here forever. That won’t help them at all. Where do I start, though? Couldn’t that stupid voice at least have given me some instructions on how this is supposed to work? Or am I supposed to just wave my hand and make things happen with magic? We’re all out of luck in that case._

No, that couldn’t be it. The game was magical, but he didn’t think you’d have to be a mage in order to play it. After all, this was a temple to Helm, not a school of wizardry. There had to be another option. He didn’t see any controls on the table itself, so perhaps it would react to verbal commands? There was nothing for it but to try, preferably with something that wouldn’t cause any disaster if he got things wrong. What had the voice said? Something about how he could adjust abilities and…

“Inventory,” He said in what he hoped was a firm voice that didn’t betray any nerves. The magic surged across the table again, and something appeared in the air in front of his eyes, a clear and vivid image. It seemed to be lists, detailing what the people under the dome were wearing in terms of equipment, both magical and otherwise. For a moment the boy forgot his concern about the safety of his friends, and simply stared in wonder at the intricate illusion, so clear and yet so complex. Most of the lists seemed fairly straightforward, but then a detail stood out to him and he frowned in puzzlement. 

“I wonder what a Codpiece of Contraception is.” He said out loud. He promised himself to ask Edwin for an explanation as soon as possible. But first, he had to get the wizard safely out of the maze, and the others as well of course. How hard could it be? Dekaras grinned with glee as he looked at the wondrous, magical toy in front of him, and he flexed his fingers in preparation. He might not have set this game up, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have fun playing it. 

-*-

“Where are we?” Imoen sounded startled, rather than frightened, and her blue eyes were sharp as she looked around. “Where did the magic thingy go?”

“I…don’t know,” Zaerini admitted, wondering to herself how soon it would be before Edwin went off on a rant about a mysterious arcane artifact being labeled thus. Then she scanned the group and although nobody seemed to be harmed, she soon knew that Edwin would have far worse to worry about. 

_Not again. I swear he’s even more slippery like this than as an adult, it’s like trying to keep hold of a wisp of smoke._

Edwin had indeed noticed that the youngest member of the group had gone missing and was already searching frantically. Rini had to catch hold of his sleeve before he ran off into the intricate maze in which they now found themselves. “Woah,” She said, “Hold up, love. We don’t even know if he’s in there, and even if he is it’ll do him no good if you get lost too.” 

Edwin sighed deeply. “I am beginning to understand more fully the lectures Father gave me on certain occasions when I’d wandered off on my own as a child,” He said. “This is by far a worse place to get lost in than the Outer City of Pyarados however, and I…” At that he broke off, and a very peculiar expression crossed his face. Rini was just about to ask him what was going on when she felt it as well. The sensation was difficult to describe, but the closest she could imagine was that if her mind had been a book, somebody had just rapidly turned all the pages. Not reading every word, no, just…skimming the surface. 

“What…” She started to say once she got her breath back, but then she was interrupted. 

“Do not be alarmed,” said a calm, slightly mechanical voice from nowhere. “This is the Test of Tactics, and Player One is familiarizing himself with the controls. We should soon be ready to begin.” 

Somehow, that didn’t sound very reassuring, and it seemed her companions agreed with her. 

“Player One?” Viconia asked in a curt voice. “Controls?” The priestess had a tight grip on the handle of her mace, and there was an ominous look in her eyes that didn’t bode well for whoever was responsible for their current predicament. “Viconia De’Vir suffers no man’s control.”

“That will not be an issue,” The voice said. “Look up.” 

They all did, and there was a chorus of intermingled gasps, yelps and oaths, depending on personal preference. 

“Minsc is feeling most confused, baffled and bewildered,” Minsc said, scratching his bald head. “Why has the lost little boy suddenly become an enormous giant little boy? Even Boo is surprised, that is why he asked me to add the word ‘bewildered’ for he normally never is.” 

“Search me,” Rini said, still staring upwards. “I’m just as clueless as Boo is about this.” The maze they were currently in, with its multitude of identical narrow corridors, didn’t have a ceiling it seemed. How this could be when they were still in Watcher’s Keep, she did not know. _Or are we still in Watcher’s Keep? This keeps getting weirder by the moment._ There was a dim, distant darkness high above, that didn’t seem like the open sky, but rather like an enormous cavern. And between them and the nothingness of empty space stood Dekaras, looking down at them curiously. He was, indeed, the size of a giant, or so it seemed. If he could hear them, he showed no sign of it, perhaps their voices weren’t audible at this range. “Wait a minute,” She said as a nasty suspicion took hold of her. “Suppose…it’s not that he’s grown large. Suppose…it’s the other way around? Suppose it’s we who have been shrunk?”

“This is all highly offensive,” Sarevok grumbled. “I am Sarevok, the Terror of the Sword Coast, very nearly the ruler of Baldur’s Gate and very nearly a god as well. I am NOT a child’s plaything to be toyed with or run through ridiculous mazes for his amusement!” 

“It is not for his amusement,” The impassive voice spoke again. “The Player has a task to perform in order to win the last key needed to open the seals. He will delegate tasks as he sees fit, administer skills and equipment, and hopefully guide you safely through the maze.”

“Hopefully?” Imoen interrupted. “What do ya mean, hopefully?”

“If he should fail, you may all die,” The voice said, sounding entirely unconcerned about this prospect. “You may be happy to learn that he sat through the entire tutorial. You would be amazed how many people simply leap into it, planning to ‘learn as they go along’ and promptly die to the first monster they encounter. And now, it seems we are ready to begin. Good luck and have fun.” The last was said in such a dry tone that it could have sucked all the moisture out of a raincloud. 

At first, Rini noticed nothing different. Then, there was that peculiar feeling again, but this time all over her body. She swallowed hard at the sensation that her skin was tightening around her and choking her and that her brain was a crawling heap of ants. Suddenly it was over, and she felt the same as always – mostly. She was wearing two swords where there had previously been just one, the second one was a blade she vaguely recognized as having picked up during her travels and storing away for later. _There was something about a speed enchantment I think – being able to attack more quickly?_ Other than that it hadn’t seemed all that powerful, so she’d pretty much forgotten about it. Her gear seemed otherwise mostly unchanged, but the spells she had previously memorized seemed a little different. _Two fireshields? No wait, one fireshield and one frostshield. And that one, I’d forgotten I’d scribed that one, that’s a…_

Her thoughts were interrupted at that point by Sarevok’s outraged exclamation. “Look at this!” He bellowed. “Will you just LOOK AT THIS! This monstrosity is an affront to nature!” 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Viconia smirked. “It rather suits you.” 

“It is PINK!” 

“More of a light magenta,” Rini said, trying to smooth her brother’s ruffled feathers before he attracted every potential monster in the labyrinth. “But it is a very nice suit of armor otherwise. Look at those enchantments, you could probably take a hit from a giant and not even stagger. And it’s got protection from elemental damage too, I’d forgotten about that.”

“It is still pink,” Sarevok growled, eyes glowing dangerously. “And I can’t take it off, it’s stuck to me. And it has engravings of bunny rabbits all over the breastplate. Not to mention the helmet.” 

Rini looked at the helmet, feverishly biting her lip in order not to break down in hopeless giggles. The helmet was, indeed, shaped like a monstrously large rabbit head, with Sarevok’s face glaring at her from out the gaping maw. 

“Well, it’s an extremely fearsome bunny!” She insisted. “If I saw it looking out at me from around a corner I’d probably faint with fright. Maybe even die.”

“I’m going to kill him when we get out of here,” Her brother stated, knuckles tightening around his sword. “Slowly and with extreme prejudice.” 

“You can’t do that, Big Brother. He’s only a child.”

“A spanking then? With a flail, preferably.”

“No! Besides, he’s only trying to help by keeping you well protected. I’m sure he’s not teasing you on purpose.” She deliberately avoided looking at the others as she said that, because she wasn’t entirely sure she could keep her face straight. Behind her she heard Edwin cough suddenly and she felt pretty certain he was thinking the same thing she was. _Face. Straight. You can do it._

“I seem to have undergone little change,” Viconia mused. “Some variations in my spell selection, but nothing entirely unexpected.” 

“Well, divine spells aren’t his field of expertise,” Rini said. “He probably decided to go with what was suggested, more or less. What about you, Eddie? Anything major?”

Edwin sighed, rubbing his temple with his fingers. He was wearing his normal red robes, as well as his staff, but he was looking almost as disgruntled as Sarevok. “My spells…” He moaned. “I had them all organized just the way I preferred them, and now….”

“Uh oh. That bad, huh? But he knows about magic, how bad could it be?”

“My Fireballs!” Edwin spat. “They’ve all been replaced with…with…”

“With what?”

“Skull Traps,” Edwin said, grinding his teeth. “I probably haven’t mentioned it, but it so happens to be an old point of contention between us. He has always insisted that Skull Traps ‘scale up better’ as a mage becomes more powerful.”

“Ok…do they?”

Edwin simply muttered something under his breath that sounded like ‘not the point’. 

“Well,” Imoen said, “Once we get out of here it’ll all get back to normal, right?” 

“Let’s hope so. Speaking of which, shall we?” She tried to move forward but found herself entirely unable to enter the labyrinth. “Oh. I get it. Not until we get marching orders, is that it?” Then, there was the sensation of a switch being flipped inside her head, and she suddenly found herself grouped up more tightly with her friends, the tall forms of Sarevok and Minsc flanking her. “Now what?”

“Obvious as always, little sister,” Sarevok said in a smugly superior tone that made her kind of want to smack him in the mouth. “You must gather your party before venturing forth. Even a child knows this.” 

-*-

Meanwhile, Dekaras was eyeing the labyrinth with a certain sense of apprehension, chewing his lower lip thoughtfully. The first sense of elation at getting to play with all these interesting magical items and spells had rapidly faded. These weren’t toys, after all. They were his friends, and if he got something wrong, he might get them killed. He’d taken his time and tweaked some things he hoped would be helpful, but now he couldn’t delay any longer. “North,” He said, pointing at the appropriate doorway, and then he watched. It was true, he really was the one in control for now, as uncomfortable as that felt. Taking care of himself, that was one thing. Taking care of others, making decisions on their behalf, that was…something else. _But I have to. There’s nobody else who can._

The first room seemed to be empty, but he made certain to direct Imoen to search for traps anyway, just to make sure. There didn’t seem to be any, but there were a few healing potions stacked under a loose flagstone, so it wasn’t a complete waste of time. Onwards, then, to the next room. There was something in there, waiting. A kobold, but a giant one, twice as tall as a man, and it seemed to have something dark and slimy dripping from its claws. _A dire-kobold? Is there such a thing?_ He wasn’t sure, but there was no time to stop and think about it. Trying to manage everything at once, he sent the warriors forward, letting the rest of the group hang back, and then hurried to get the first spell he could find off. _Oh. Oh no._ In his haste, he’d aimed the spell too close. While the Skull Trap did take a goodly chunk of the kobold’s left arm off, making it screech with anger and pain, it also sent deadly shrapnel flying, hitting the people closest to it. They were too small, too far away, so he couldn’t see the blood or the pain properly, but that didn’t make it less real, and before his eyes another display lit up, glowing bars representing the health of the people below him, now dwindling. _My fault._

There were voices in his ears now, shreds of clinging memory whispering and taunting. _Failure. Disappointment. Let us all down._

He tried not to think about those voices normally, tried to hide them deep inside, but right now they were closer to the surface than normal and the haunting memories were coming back unbidden. _The room. No._

He’d stepped through the door to the test of Courage not knowing what to expect, but there was no choice, was there?

Starving in the mountains, lips cracking from lack of water, hunger like a living thing gnawing the stomach. Purple clouds gathering, darkness in his eyes, but no rain to bring relief. Alone, all alone. Going to die here, all alone. Wanting to cry so there would be at least a little bit of damp on his cheeks. Not able to. Not again, not ever again. 

That hadn’t been the worst of it. 

The Witches in their circle, sleeves of dark robes flapping, their magic weaving together into a strong net, far too strong to break through. A strange memory this, oddly…doubled? But one was strong and clear, the other murky, hidden. Pain, deep inside, worse than anything he could ever have imagined. Screaming, unable not to, but they wouldn’t stop, and he could feel everything as part of him was ripped away forever.

That hadn’t been the worst of it either. 

The faces of his parents, normally loving, now so stern and cold. _You have made us terribly disappointed. Have we not always provided for you, taught you right from wrong? How could you fail us so?_ Disbelief, shock. They were supposed to protect him, to keep him safe. Why was this happening? How was this happening? _You have only yourself to blame. You have shamed this family, dishonored our name. You will be treated accordingly._ Their backs, retreating, faceless shadows soon swallowed by the dark. Why? They were supposed to love him. Weren’t they? _I let them down. I must never do that again, not to anybody that matters. Never again._

The boy swallowed hard, trying to focus on his task. He’d passed that test at least, hadn’t he? The voice, the odd faceless and somehow familiar voice had talked to him, shattering the shadows. 

_When the odds seem insurmountable, when the road is the darkest and most dangerous, you keep moving forward. Why? Because somebody has to. Love, and duty, child. You know this well._

His fingers sped across the controls, his voice barked out commands without pause, trying to stabilize the situation. Healing spells, protective spells, yes. Pull that one back, send that one around the flank. He knew what to do. _You focus on what to do, not on what not to do. Failure is not an option._ That was another voice, oddly familiar as well, though he couldn’t place it. He didn’t dare look up from the controls, but he thought he could see something out of the corner of his eye. His shadow across the floor was long, looming high as if it had a life of its own, a tall man moving with skill and purpose. _Yes. You are almost there. Soon, it will be time to remember._

That was an odd thought, but he didn’t have the time to stop and reflect upon it. He had a job to do, after all. _And I never leave one unfinished._

-*-

“Well, we’re alive,” Zaerini said, trying to sound more upbeat than she actually felt. Not being able to control her own actions in a fight to the death was unsettling, to say the least. “No fatal injuries either.” 

“It was a close call though,” Sarevok said as Viconia pulled a piece of shrapnel out of his cheek and neatly closed up the wound. “Though I suppose it should come as no great surprise that the boy’s aim is as erratic as the wizard’s.” 

“My aim is perfect,” Edwin said with a smirk. “If you get singed, you may safely conclude that you were considered to be necessary collateral damage.” 

“Well, I hope the child views things differently,” Viconia said. “I have only so many healing spells to spare.” 

To be certain, Dekaras seemed to be playing things cautiously. Imoen frequently found herself scouting ahead to peer around corners, and to deal with traps. There were a few monsters, but nothing too serious, not until Imoen reported that the last and presumably final room held not one, but two giant worms, one spewing fire, the other acid. It came as no great surprise to Zaerini that she found herself casting protective spells. Flames leapt from her red hair and danced across her body, then were followed by constantly moving swirls of extreme cold. They didn’t cancel each out the way she thought they might have done but mingled together into a fairly attractive purple aura. Edwin using a scroll to protect against acid also came as no great surprise. What did come as a great surprise was what happened next. She was casting a spell she hadn’t really used much, and an illusionary copy of her sprang into view, identical in every detail. The copy marched off to stand mutely in a corner, and she then found herself being walked into the room with the worms. “Um, guys?” She called helplessly across her shoulder. “Are you coming?” 

But no. They were all standing motionless, unable to follow her. _Vadrak? Please tell me you’ve thought this through properly._ The worms were truly huge this close up. They were reared up so that their flat faces were near the ceiling, and their mandibles were dripping fire and acid, leaving deadly pools on the ground. _I guess if we were all in here it would be really hard to keep everybody safe. But how does he expect to keep me safe?_

Then she was charging at the two monsters, dual swords whirling. The new sword really did speed things up, and they both bit deeply into the worms’ cold grey flesh. She braced herself for the monsters to swoop down on her, but they just stood there, as if they didn’t even notice they were being killed. _The illusion spell. The illusion is so far away they can’t even try to see through it and they aren’t spellcasters either who can break spells. They can’t attack me._ The fire and the acid still could be dangerous, but her own spells should keep her safe, and now she noticed something else. Every time a drop of acid or fire struck her skin, her purple shield flared up, throwing fire and frost back ten times over at the worms. Even more interesting, her own blows seemed to speed the process up, perhaps through the enchantment on the new sword. _Ooooh, cool!_ By now the worms were pockmarked with burns and creeping icicles, not to mention that they were being cut to ribbons. Eventually they shuddered, shrieked and dropped to the ground in two quivering heaps of flesh, not having landed a single blow on her. _Nice moves, kid._

The others were moving into the room now, and she grinned when Edwin pulled her into a close embrace. “Not bad, huh?” She said. “Careful you don’t get chunks of worm on you.”

“I don’t care,” The wizard emphatically said as his fingers entwined in her hair. “Are you well?”

“Oh yes, not a scratch. Bet those worms felt pretty silly as they died, don’t you think? I’ll have to remember that trick, though it probably wouldn’t work if the monsters were smarter. I think…” 

And that’s where she was shut up by her lover’s lips on hers, and she forgot all about the worms for the moment. Once she came up for air, she noticed there was now something new present in the room. It was a stone pedestal which had seemingly risen out of the floor, and on top of it there was a glowing object. The final key. It floated into the air, landing neatly in her hand. 

UNORTHODOX TACTICS, that vast, deep voice mused. BUT LEGITIMATE, TO BE SURE. AND EXECUTED WITH CARE TO MINIMIZE DAMAGE, AS SPECIFIED. THE TEST HAS BEEN PASSED. 

“Oh, excellent,” Viconia said with a brief roll of her eyes. “Does that mean we now get the pleasure of encountering some even worse monster?”

ER…POSSIBLY. BUT FIRST, YOU HAD BEST RETURN TO NORMAL SIZE. TELL THE BOY HE DID WELL. 

The surge of magic was almost overwhelming, momentarily blinding her with white light. When it passed, she was mercifully normal in size again, as were all her friends. The key was still there, she was clutching it tightly in her fist. Dekaras looked up from where he was still standing near the controls, his dark eyes huge in his pale face. 

“You’re all right?” He breathed, giving her a tense, anxious look, much like Edwin had done earlier. 

“Sure thing,” She replied once again, making sure to give him a warm smile. “That was a clever trick, really.”

He blinked in surprise, and she wasn’t sure if he’d understood her properly. “I’m sorry I got it wrong at first,” He said, speaking very rapidly. “I didn’t mean to get anybody hurt. I’m sorry I let you down.” 

“Hey, it’s fine.” She hunched lower so she could look him properly in the eyes and frowned when he flinched. “Really. You didn’t let us down. Nobody’s mad.”

“But I got it wrong.” 

“And then you got it right. We all get things wrong sometimes, all we can do is try our best. That’s all anybody can do. Anybody who tells you otherwise deserves to get what those two worms got, got it?”

At first, he simply looked at her, digesting this. Then, she saw the corner of his mouth twitch slightly into a lopsided smile. Ah, what the heck. Risks are made to be taken. When she pulled him into a quick hug, he stiffened at first, but then she felt thin arms tightening around her back and knew that she was grinning like a lunatic. _Yes, we all get things wrong sometimes. But this time, we got it right._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Mislead trick can be a handy one, especially if playing with a small party. Just park your caster's Mislead clone way over on the edge of the map, and for as long as it lasts no True Sight spell will penetrate it. 
> 
> Skull Traps do scale up better once you get to higher levels. I always make Edwin memorize them - but I also always let him keep a Fireball wand. :) 
> 
> On my very first attempt at BG1, I did indeed diligently go through all of the tutorial - and then my poor mage promptly died to the welcome wolf on the first map outside Candlekeep. Thankfully I've learnt since then.


	31. Imprisoned One

**Throne Of Cards 31 – Imprisoned One**

_As you’re climbing the steps to your throne, watch out for the banana-peel under your foot._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“So, this is it then,” Zaerini said as she activated the final seal opening the lowest level of Watcher’s Keep. “Watch out now, be ready for anything!” The seal hummed softly, lit up with a clear blue flash, and then the light jumped across the room to the lifeless portal at the far end, making it spring to life as well. She held her breath, waiting, but absolutely nothing else happened. “Huh,” She said eventually. “No horrible monsters?”

“You need not sound quite so disappointed,” Viconia said with a wry smile. “Personally, I am quite pleased not to have to leap into another fight to the death.” 

“Yes, I know, I know, but it’s just that after all the lead up it feels a little anticlimactic. The way Helm has been ramping up this place I was expecting a full legion of demons.”

“Maybe he ran out of demons?” Imoen suggested. Then she bit her lip in worry. “Or…or maybe whatever is down on the lowest level killed all the demons? And ate them?” 

“Mind what you say!” Edwin snapped, hurrying to clasp his hands across Dekaras’ ears. Rini noticed that the boy briefly rolled his eyes, but he didn’t try to twist away though she’d have cheerfully bet that he could have. He looked more fascinated than frightened, which she concluded probably ought to worry Edwin more. 

“Minsc will go in first, to keep all Witches and children safe!” Minsc said, nodding. “Boo is eager to see the end of this dark and dreary place, look at his unfettered hamster fury!”

Rini looked. Boo was indeed squirming eagerly in Minsc’s enormous hands, his fur standing on edge. Now and then he gave a quiet hiss. “All right,” She said. “But let’s all stick close together behind you, there’s no telling what we’ll be up against.” Then she braced herself, placed her hand on Minsc’s shoulder and made sure all the others were gathered closely around her. This portal felt different than the others. It was colder, a chill that seeped deep into her very bones and there was a low, almost inaudible noise in the background that she couldn’t quite make out. It was regular and steady, but why did it fill her with such a creeping sense of unease? Then she stepped out of the portal, and that feeling increased tenfold. 

The final chamber below the thousands of tons of stone and mortar that made up Watcher’s Keep, the cell of the mysterious Imprisoned One, the goal they’d been seeking all along was…empty? Two gently curving staircases led down from the portal into the room, a large round stone chamber with rough walls. Large, yes, but not so large that she couldn’t see it fully. There were iron chains on the floor, connected to manacles, chains thick enough that they ought to be able to pin down a dragon, but they were empty as well, and several of them were broken and splintered. 

“This is it?!” Sarevok said. “We came all this way and now…” And then Zaerini was treated to the rare sight of seeing her brother both shut up and go a few shades paler than normal with alarm. It wasn’t a cause for smugness though, for she had felt and seen the same things he did. The room looked empty, yes. But there was a presence here, a vast and invisible weight pressing against her mind, the sound of deep breaths echoing through the semi-darkness. And there, yes, one of the heavy chains slithered across the floor with a lazy clank-clank-clank as something she could not see stirred, alerted to her presence. Briefly she considered a divination spell and then decided against it. This thing, whatever it was, felt as if it could crush her brain like an egg. She didn’t want to annoy it if she could avoid doing so. Then, the thing she could not see spoke, and its voice was a crashing wave against the crumbling shore of her sanity. It was the gibbering of a thousand lunatic voices in a deranged chorus, the silky sweet promise of the freedom of insanity and the joy of slaughter. 

AH, GUESTS. IT HAS BEEN SO LONG, SO VERY LONG. There was a deep, moist, snuffle. AND A CHILD OF BHAAL AT THAT. HOW VERY INTERESTING. WHAT CAN I DO FOR YOU?

“Are you the Imprisoned One?” She asked, hoping her voice wasn’t shaking too badly. There was a brief pause. 

LET ME GET THIS STRAIGHT. YOU FIGHT YOUR WAY THROUGH THE BOWELS OF WATCHER’S KEEP, TO THE DEEPEST DUNGEON BELOW THE DARKEST TOWER, TO WHERE SOMEBODY IS CLEARLY CHAINED UP IN A CELL AND DREADFULLY BORED IF YOU MUST KNOW, AND YOU ASK ME THAT? 

“Oh, all right, it was a bit of a stupid question, I guess. Can I ask what…who you are instead?”

YOU CAN. 

“But you’re not going to answer. Of course.”

YOU AMUSE ME, LITTLE ONE. YOU ARE NOT MY JAILOR, COME HERE TO STRENGTHEN MY BONDS. YET YOU FAIRLY GLOW WITH GRIM PURPOSE. SO TELL ME THEN, IF NOT FOR THE THRILL OF MY CONVERSATION OR MY DASHING GOOD LOOKS, THEN WHY ARE YOU HERE? 

“Well, it is kind of a long and complicated story…”

OH, THAT SOUNDS TEDIOUS. ALLOW ME. 

There was the horrible sensation of long and grubby fingers shifting through her surface thoughts, poking and prodding and on one memorable occasion tickling. As she looked at her friends’ faces it was obvious they’d just had the same thing happen. Viconia looked disgusted, Imoen horrified, Sarevok ready to kill, and Edwin and Dekaras were mirrors of outrage. Alone among them, Minsc looked entirely placid. 

OH, I SEE! THAT…THAT’S HILARIOUS! WHAT A SCREAM! WHAT A…A…HA HA HA HA HA!

“Just what is so funny, you demented dungeon dweller?” Edwin asked between clenched teeth. 

WELL, I COULD TELL YOU, BUT THEN I’D HAVE TO KILL YOU. HEH. 

“No, no, that won’t be necessary!” Rini hurried to say. “Look, you clearly know why we’re here. A certain book, to help with a certain…spell. It’s very important. You know where to find it, and I know that you do. So, can we just skip past the death threats and to the part where you tell me what it’ll take for you to tell us where to find it?”

There was a brief pause, and when the voice spoke again it sounded more controlled than before, but even more darkly amused. She wasn’t sure if that was an improvement or not. YOU MISDIRECT, CHILD OF BHAAL, BUT YOU BARGAIN WITH COINS OF WOOD. WHAT CAN YOU OFFER ME, SHUT IN HERE AS YOU ARE? 

_Damn._ She’d hoped the…thing, whatever it was, wouldn’t know about what Odren had done. “A song and dance number? I do a pretty mean Tethyrian cross-step if I do say so myself.”

HM. YES. There was a brief giggle. A LITTLE DANCE, A SONG SO SWEET…A HELMITE HEAD LAIN AT MY FEET. YES, WE CAN WORK WITH THAT. 

“Come again?”

THE HIGH PRIEST, FAR ABOVE US. I TASTE THE TANG OF HIS BETRAYAL IN YOUR THOUGHTS. YOU ARE TRAPPED AS I AM, CHILD OF BHAAL. DO YOU THINK THE RITUAL SCROLL HE GAVE YOU MIGHT SAVE YOU, PERHAPS? IT WILL STRENGTHEN THE SEALS I HAVE WORKED AT SO PATIENTLY FOR SUCH A LONG TIME, YES. IT WILL ALSO SEAL AWAY ANY HOPE FOR YOU TO ESCAPE, FOR IT WILL SHUT DOWN ALL THE PORTALS. BUT PERHAPS YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS WOULD LIKE A FEW MILLENNIA IN MY OWN SCINTILLATING COMPANY? WE COULD PLAY TIC-TAC-TOE. I’LL EVEN LET YOU GO FIRST. 

Rini looked around at her friends. “Thoughts?” She quietly asked. 

“It may well be true,” Viconia offered. “The priest, as we have already learned, is a double-crossing piece of offal and he did deliberately shut us in here. Of course, this creature may well be a liar as well, but there is no harm in hearing it out.” 

“Just…be careful, ok?” Imoen said, her cold hand squeezing the half-elf’s own. “Whatever it wants, it can’t be good.” 

“While I have the utmost faith in my own limitless capacity for destruction, we are at some disadvantage here, my Hellkitten,” Edwin murmured into her ear. “I had planned to perform a scientific experiment and determine whether the priest might be entirely dismantled down to charcoal and similar base components without incinerating his robe, but if this beast wants him as a chew toy, I say pet it on the head and try not to get slobbered on.” 

Sarevok simply nodded, not taking his eyes off the lazily twitching chains. Did one of the thick links creak and crack a little, just then? 

Minsc smiled calmly. “Boo…” He blinked and shook his head briefly. “Let’s be friends.” Rini gave him a concerned look, he’d sounded odd just then, even for Minsc. But there was no time to worry about it, she had to make a decision. “Tell us what you want,” She said. “Then we’ll see.” 

AH, SWEET CHILD OF BHAAL, I THOUGHT YOU’D SEE MY POINT! HERE IS THE DANCE I PROPOSE. I AM IMPRISONED, YES, BUT YOU NEED NOT BE. MY STRENGTH IS GROWING, MY BONDS ARE WEAKENING. I CAN OPEN A NEW PORTAL FOR YOU, ONE TO TAKE YOU ALL OUT OF THIS PLACE. 

“And? There’s going to be an ‘and’, I expect.” 

AND THEN YOU GO TO SEE THE PRIEST. YOU WILL TELL HIM THAT THE SEAL DID NOT WORK, THAT I BROKE FREE, AND THAT YOU HAD TO SLAY ME. BOO HOO, SO SAD, BRING OUT THE WHITE LILIES AND THE CHORAL MUSIC, HE HAD SO MANY STRANGE AEONS AHEAD OF HIM, ETC. 

Zaerini blinked. It sounded very simple, to be sure. Too simple. “That’s all you want me to do? Nothing else? And then you’ll tell me the name of the book we seek and where to find it?” 

OF COURSE, LITTLE KITTY. FLASH THE TRAITOR PRIEST YOUR SMILE SO SHARP AND BRIGHT, POUR YOUR SWEET WORDS INTO HIS HAIRY OLD EAR – HE REALLY OUGHT TO INVEST IN TWEEZERS – AND THEN RETURN TO SPEAK TO ME AGAIN. I WILL TELL YOU WHAT YOU WISH TO KNOW. 

It could well be a trap. No, scratch that, it would be an immense surprise if it wasn’t a trap. Even so, the option to die trapped in here was even less appealing, and as for Odren’s possible fate she really didn’t give a toss. “It’s a deal,” She said. “Let us out of here, and I’ll tell Odren what you asked me to.”

OOOOH GOODY! LET THE FUN AND GAMES BEGIN THEN! I WILL PUT ON MY BEST BOWTIE WHILE YOU RUN YOUR LITTLE ERRAND. OR WOULD A SPARKLY DRESS AND HEELS WORK BETTER FOR A DATE WITH A PRIEST, DO YOU THINK? DOES IT MAKE ME LOOK FAT?   
There was another long, extensive cackle, but the creature didn’t seem to expect a reply, clearly content with the sound of its own voice. Then there was a deep surge of power, coming from everywhere in the room at once, and without the normal magical signature she’d expect from a human spellcaster. A second portal, next to the one they’d entered through, flashed into life. OFF WITH YOU NOW, LITTLE ONES, the Imprisoned One said. I WILL STAY UP WAITING WITH THE LAMPS LIT. WELL, I WOULD IF I HAD PROPER LAMPS BUT I ATE THEM TO MAKE A MOSAIC OF BROKEN GLASS IN MY BELLY. NOW, SHOO. 

-*-

The sight of the sky was immensely welcome as Zaerini stepped through the portal, and the wind in her hair nearly made her giggle out loud. The sun was low in the sky, close to setting, and the clouds were blazing pink and orange. The gaggle of priests surrounding her and her friends were more of a pale yellow as they stared with wide eyes, mouths hanging open. _Guess they didn’t expect to see us again. But why are they still standing around though? Oh, they were probably waiting for us to complete the ritual like saps and seal the deal._

“Hi, friends!” She said in a bright voice, smiling steadily at Odren while never taking her eyes off the man. His right eyelid had a nervous tic in it, and he was fiddling with the sleeves of his robe. “Oh my, it’s getting a bit late isn’t it? Guess we got out in the nick of time.”

“You…” Odren began, then coughed and took a deep breath. “You…the ritual scroll?”

“Oh, that.” She shrugged briefly. “Well, we thought about using it, but that seemed kind of boring, and besides we wouldn’t get any loot, would we? So we just killed the Imprisoned One instead. We needed the workout anyway.” 

Odren’s eyes were glassy with terror. “No…no! What have you done?!”

“Duh,” Imoen said, wrinkling her nose. “She just told you. We killed the Imprisoned One. Not too complicated words, were they?”

“And now,” Sarevok said as he stepped closer to the priests, “I would be most interested in a discussion about how the front door to your dungeon works. A door handle on the inside seems a reasonable investment, yes?”

“I…I am truly sorry,” Odren stammered. “But you have no idea what a calamity you may have caused! The Imprisoned One can…can be killed after a fashion, but it is not permanent! It will be back, stronger than ever. Are you sure you killed it?”

“The pools of blood and liquefied organs seemed a reasonably good indication,” Edwin said. “If you wish to perform a full autopsy on your pet monster, I would recommend bringing a few buckets with you to carry it out. (I wonder if it would be possible to melt a person from the inside out. I should find out, for science.)”

Odren hesitated, wringing his hands as the other priests huddled around him. “A-acolytes!” He finally stammered. “Follow me. All may not yet be lost. Perhaps…perhaps we might sanctify the cell, keep the Imprisoned One’s spirit bound a while longer. Perhaps Lord Helm may yet forgive us for our failure. Come, and bring the relics, the ‘Watcher’s Keep Compendium’ and the ‘holy oil’ that Brother Kesar keeps with him at all times.” One of the priests, a lanky fellow with messy brown hair, tittered nervously. “For personal worship purposes!” He squeaked. Odren was already disappearing into Watcher’s Keep, the other priests obediently following him, and shortly thereafter the adventurers were standing alone on top of the enormous prison dungeon. 

“Well,” Rini said. “That was that. Now we come to the hard part.”

“Just so,” Edwin said with a small grimace. “The creature may keep its word, but then again it may decide that it would prefer to turn us all into delightful multicolored snacks. (Turning back is out of the question, of course.) We had best be well prepared for betrayal.” 

“The Somewhat Evil Wizard need not worry,” Minsc said, patting Edwin’s arm. “We have Boo along, after all, and Boo says all will be well as long as we do not tarry too long.” 

“Well, excuse me for not being filled with the blind confidence of the utterly deranged at the sight of your pet rodent. (One person like that in the party is quite enough, this will require a cool head and steady nerves.)” 

There was a quiet cough, and Zaerini turned around to see Dekaras reach up to tug at Edwin’s sleeve. “It’s all right, really,” The boy said. “You don’t have to. I’ll be fine, honestly.” 

“No, you won’t! What do you mean, ‘fine’? Just what are you talking about? (If anybody has been telling tales about things they shouldn’t, I will not hesitate to employ maximum force.)”

“I figured it out, that’s what I mean.” He looked down, not meeting the adults’ eyes. “It’s…nice of you to want to help, but it probably won’t work anyway, and I don’t want you to get killed over it.”

“Hang on a sec,” Imoen said, her blue eyes wide and puzzled. “What did you figure out?”

“You’re trying to fix my magic, aren’t you? It’s the only thing that makes sense, from what you’ve said.” He looked up, and then frowned at the looks on their faces. “Oh. It’s not? But Minsc said the magic book was meant to ‘make me better’. And there’s nothing else wrong with me, so obviously I thought…” 

“That’s…not exactly what Minsc meant,” Rini said, wincing a little as she saw his face grow very still and blank. “It is something extremely important though, I promise. And I don’t mean to fight the Imprisoned One unless we absolutely have to, but we came all the way for that book and we’re not leaving without it. That’s final.” 

“Just so!” Edwin said, crossing his arms across his chest. “But just in case we do have to resort to reducing the monster to a steaming puddle of monster mash, I absolutely insist on you remaining out here, where it is at least reasonably safe. No, do not give me that look, it will not work this time. Promise you will stay out here, where you will not get in the way of any confrontation. And no insane antics like climbing the roof of the temple either!”

Dekaras’ eyes narrowed dangerously, but he nodded. “Fine,” He said in an agreeable voice Rini felt sure was entirely deceptive. “I promise I won’t ‘get in the way’.”

“And that you will stay out here?”

He looked rather sulky at that, but he gave a brief nod. “Yes, all right, I will. But what if…”

“If we don’t come back in…say an hour’s time, then it probably means we will not. Not that such a thing will happen, of course. But just in case, just to have a backup plan, then if the worst were to happen you must make your way back to Thay, one way or another, and seek out Lady Odesseiron in the city of Pyarados.” Edwin swallowed briefly. “She will…take care of you. (And in that case, she will probably reanimate me in order to personally give me the mother of all scoldings.) Can you remember that?”

“Of course. But I don’t like it.” 

“You don’t have to like it; you just have to do it.” Edwin hesitated briefly. “And assuming we do acquire the book, and that it works as intended, I give my own word that you will be told what it is for.” 

“That is a matter for later discussion though,” Viconia said, tossing her long white hair back across her shoulder. “The Imprisoned One awaits us, and we had better get going now.” 

“You’re right,” Zaerini agreed. “Let’s hope for the best and prepare for the worst. And I really want to get the chance to ask Helm at some point just what his intentions were with this place…”

“I believe I may be able to answer that.” It was a new voice that had spoken, and as she turned around, she blinked with surprise. _Well, that’s unexpected. And now what?_

“You must have a great many questions,” the floating woman said in a pleasant voice which reminded Zaerini vaguely of distant bells. She wasn’t just floating, she was glowing too, with a light so bright that it was impossible to make out any details about her facial features. There was definitely long, flowing hair there though, and fluttering white robes. Was that a brightly gleaming chest mail? 

“Plenty,” The bard admitted, not really feeling in the mood for extensive banter. “Did Bhaal mate with anything worse than a fire giant, what will be the silliest fashion in Thay next summer, are you going to treat me to some sort of boring lecture or moral dilemma meant to impress me or are you actually here to help me, what’s my favourite cake and oh, by the way, who are you?”

It was hard to tell, but she thought she saw a smile on that shining face. “To answer your questions,” the woman said. “Yes, trousers you hike up very high under your armpits, no, yes, chocolate with preferably a hint of rum. And my name is Milena. I served My Lord Helm in life, as His priestess, and I serve in the afterlife. Should you wish to confront the Imprisoned One a final time, there are things he would have you know.” 

“That is remarkably convenient,” Edwin said with a small sneer. “However, given that the previous priest of Helm we entered into negotiations with proceeded to lock us inside a dungeon swarming with lethal monsters, you will have to forgive us for being just a tad skeptical.” 

“He is correct, for once,” Viconia agreed, raising her hand. “You may be intangible to weapons, spirit, but I will snuff you out like a candle if you move against us.” 

“Do not worry, friends,” Minsc said. He gave Milena a friendly smile and patted Boo. “The shiny lady seems nice, and no matter what, Boo will take care of everything.” 

“You are justified in your mistrust,” Milena said. She sounded just as calm as before. “The priest Odren did betray you, and as he did so he betrayed my Lord as well. He was entrusted with a task of grave importance, as were those before him, and he betrayed that trust.”

“The Imprisoned One,” Rini said. “What was Odren really supposed to do?” 

“When the Imprisoned One was sealed inside Watcher’s Keep, it was a given that at some point the seals would need strengthening. That was the duty of the High Priest of the Keep, to enter the deepest dungeon and to do what needed to be done at the appointed hour. It was the most important duty of all, so Odren and his predecessors were told, for upon the completion of the ritual the priest himself would become the prison, his life’s force binding the creature.” 

“What a glorious reward for faithful service,” Sarevok said with a brief shrug. “Even at my most deranged I offered my minions better terms than that.” 

“You are not a High Priest of Helm,” Milena said. “For us, there is no reward more glorious than the chance to lay down our life for the sake of such an utterly worthy cause as this. A true devotee of the Watcher takes his duty very seriously and would never betray a trust such as this.” She looked at Zaerini again, those blazing eyes not blinking once. “You know this, Child of Bhaal, do you not? You know followers of the Watcher, I believe.”

“Sure. Except Odren didn’t turn out to be such a true follower, did he?”

Milena’s light dimmed briefly, and her next words fell like heavy tears. “The priest Odren…is no longer one of us. Odren faltered, and Odren fell. When his time came to fulfill the duty he had willingly accepted, the duty that several of us had fulfilled before him, he betrayed all. Even worse, he compounded his sin and gave into the temptation of sacrificing innocent lives in order to avoid his sacred oath.”

“Oh, of course,” Imoen said. “Maybe Helm can be a bit of a jerk at times, but one of his priests doing that? Sacrificing a kid especially?” She whistled slowly. “Something tells me it’ll take more than a few prayers and hymns to make up for that one.” 

“Correct. The hand of the Watcher will not shield Odren.”

“That’s all well and good,” Rini said. “But Odren isn’t really our biggest problem here, is he? We’ve still got to deal with the Imprisoned One somehow, and this little bit of exposition doesn’t really help us with that.” 

“As you say. Know you then, the Imprisoned One is immensely powerful, but it can be killed. Even this is but a temporary measure however, for eventually it will be able to return.”

“Fair enough, I’ll avoid a fight to the death with it unless absolutely necessary. Don’t ask me to pick up Odren’s slack either, by the way. I’m not a priest of Helm and I’m not sacrificing myself for the sake of his demented dungeon. Same goes for my friends.” 

Milena nodded. “That sacrifice is not being asked of you, Child of Bhaal. You have other tasks ahead of you, which must be fulfilled. Nor does the Watcher ask it if your companions.”

“Then what?” Imoen asked, as she thoughtfully twiddled a lock of her pink hair between her fingers. “You talk a lot, but what does Helm really want us to do? You’ve got a better, updated version of the ritual squirreled away somewhere?”

Milena smiled. “Hypothetically, if I did have such a thing, would you agree to use it?”

“Maybe?” Rini said, eyeing the spirit suspiciously. “That depends on what it would do, wouldn’t it?”

“Hypothetically, such a thing would in fact be inferior to the original version, as the lack of the High Priest’s faithful sacrifice would lessen the impact. However, the attunement to the Imprisoned One’s specific nature would suffice. All mortals present at the time of the ritual’s casting would be entirely safe and quite able to depart. In theory.”

“In theory?!”

“Well, such a hypothetical device, did it exist, would of course be in the experimental stage, rapidly developed due to this newly arisen issue with Odren and possibly prone to explosions, unintentional transformations, petrification and other ailments for which the Maker would like to offer his hypothetical apologies in advance.” 

“Lovely,” The half-elf muttered. “Well, I’m not making any promises here, but we’ll see when we get there. I’d rather skip the whole thing, just get what we came for and get out of there, but I suppose the Imprisoned One getting free would be really, really bad wouldn’t it?”

“I fear so,” Milena said. “It might not destroy the entire world, but it would probably make most mortals wish that it had.” 

“Ergh. Fine, give it here. But you can tell Helm that he owes us bigtime, and I’ll cash in whenever I get the chance.”

“I will make certain my Lord gets the message,” Milena said, her glow brightening again. “His blessing goes with you.” 

“I’d rather his devoted armies go with us, but thanks, I guess. Let’s go in, gang.” She turned to look at Dekaras. “And you, remember what you promised.” 

The boy sighed. “Yes, yes. Stay out here, I promise. Are you sure I can’t do anything to help?”

“Well,” Rini said, her smile growing more mischievous as she looked at Milena. “How about you try your hand at praying? I figure Helm’s Chosen would gladly look after you while we’re gone and be only too happy to give you religious instruction.” Hurriedly, because she’d seen the look on his face, she added, “And besides, Helm’s bound to feel more inclined to help us if you pester him a bit. You wouldn’t mind that, would you?”

Dekaras gave Watcher’s Keep a dark look. “After that place? It will be my pleasure.” 

-*-

The large cell of the Imprisoned One wasn’t any more pleasant the second time she entered it than the first one, and Rini felt every little hair on her body prickling in protest, even as her lungs seemed to struggle to draw breath. The place looked much the same as before, with one notable exception. The broken bodies of Odren and his fellow priests lay scattered about the floor like abandoned dolls. In fact, there were parts of priests on the walls as well, and in one very unpleasant case, on the ceiling. 

“Yuck!” Imoen whispered with a shudder even as a chunk of meat fell with a wet thump to the floor and nearly landed on her boot. “I know they set us up, but still….”

“I didn’t know it was possible to turn a person entirely inside-out,” Edwin murmured, staring in fascination at a particularly gruesome corpse. “I wonder if I could replicate…” 

The air grew murkier, feeling vaguely oily. AH, THE CHILD OF BHAAL AND HER LITTLE PLAYMATES, the invisible presence greeted them. YOU’RE LUCKY TO CATCH ME IN, HEH. THE SOUL OF THE FALLEN PRIEST WAS DELICIOUSLY CRUNCHY. IT MADE MY BELLY VERY HAPPY INDEED AND IT HAS GIVEN ME THE FINAL BOOST I NEEDED. VERY SOON, I WILL BE FREE. THANK YOU, WITHOUT A SNACK IT MIGHT HAVE TAKEN ME A WHILE LONGER. 

“That’s great news,” Rini said, feeling as if her smile had been painted onto her face. “But before you take off to a sunny beach or a nice tavern, there’s the teeny tiny little detail of what you promised me. The book, if you please.” 

AH, YES. The chamber filled with dark chuckles, bouncing from wall to bloody wall. I DO NOT HAVE IT, BUT I CAN SEE MANY THINGS; AND I CAN SEE THIS THING YOU SEEK. WHAT AN EXCELLENT JOKE!

“Joke?” _I don’t like the sound of that._

THE BOOK WAS ONCE IN YOUR POSSESSION, BUT YOU RID YOURSELF OF IT LONG AGO, AND YOU SENT IT BACK TO THE BEGINNING, TO JOIN ITS FELLOWS IN THE GREAT OLD LIBRARY.

“Library…” Rini whispered, a nasty suspicion sneaking up on her. Could it be? Yes, there had been a book, what felt like ages ago. “Candlekeep. We had to get back inside Candlekeep, Sarevok was messing everything up with doppelgangers…”

“I was executing my cunning plans for divine ascension, thank you very much,” Sarevok huffed. 

“…shut up, Big Bro….so we had to pay with a book, and we had one with us. An old, rare book. Eddie was reading it all the time; he really didn’t like parting with it. We’d found it in a dungeon or something, and it was called…it was called…”

“…’The History of the Nether Scrolls’,” Edwin filled in, sounding almost as disgusted as she felt. “Of course. It just had to be, hadn’t it? (Somewhere, somehow, some sadistic deity undoubtedly planned this ages ago and finds it exceedingly humorous. I do not.)”

THAT WOULD BE IT, YES. THAT BOOK CONTAINS THE KNOWLEDGE YOU SEEK. OFF YOU GO THEN. The chuckles grew louder, into a torrent of demented, hooting laughter. YOU’D BETTER HURRY BEFORE IT’S TOO LATE. I’M STILL HUNGRY, AND THIS WORLD OF YOURS LOOKS SOOOO APPETIZING!

_Well, this is it then._ The bard slid her hand into the pocket where she kept the ritual scroll Milena had given her, the ‘experimental version’. _Hope this works. But how can I use it without him…her…it noticing?_

It was at this moment that Minsc calmly stepped forward, Boo held out on the palm of his hand. The hamster’s cheeks were puffed up, and its fur looked even fluffier than normal. “No,” He said. “The world is not for eating. Boo disapproves most heartily.” 

WHAT IS THIS? The air shimmered around the chains, the vague outline of a monstrous form just beginning to show. THIS TINY CREATURE…HOW ODD…

Boo reared up on his hind legs, and Zaerini could have sworn that he snickered quietly. Most of her attention was captivated by what was happening in the middle of the large cell though. The Imprisoned One was gradually taking shape, becoming solid, becoming…real. Was this how the prison worked? It kept the thing from fully coming into the world? If so, the last remnants of the barrier were rapidly fading, and even as she watched she could see the last link in the large chain buckling and snapping. The hideous thing standing before her was huge, fifteen, maybe twenty feet tall, with a hunched over muscular body covered in red fur, except for the scaly and clawed feet. There were a mass of tentacles bursting out from its broad shoulders, and its forked tail had tentacles as well. There were eyes on those tentacles, blank, purple eyes filled with malice. Were there tentacles on the eyes in turn? And its head…no its heads…they were…

“Oh, look,” Edwin said, with the kind of calm lucidity that heralds encroaching madness. “A two-headed monkey demon.” 

DEMON? The thing chuckled out of both its wide, leering mouths, even as the two heads turned Edwin’s ways. MONKEY? A PROUD BABOON, IGNORANT CHILD. AND YOU BEHOLD DEMOGORGON, PRINCE OF DEMONS, THE SIBILANT BEAST, AHMON-IBOR, THE LURKER IN THE DREAMS, SIOSIVASH THE GREAT INSANITY. DEATH IS MY SCEPTRE AND PAIN MY CROWN. NOW DESPAIR AS I…

And here, in the middle of its speech, the demon lord broke off to stare in what could only be called wide-eyed astonishment at the small hamster still sitting on Minsc’s palm. YOU? NO…IT CANNOT BE…

For one brief moment she thought she was imagining it, but then it was impossible to ignore the reality of it any longer. Boo was growing…no, Boo wasn’t growing as such, but something else was growing out of Boo, like a vast and still intangible thundercloud bursting forth from a small seed. It grew and grew, becoming as large as Demogorgon himself, and then it took form, solidified. It wasn’t merely as large as Demogorgon, but as ugly as well. The newly arrived monster was a little more humanoid than the two-headed baboon, but only a little. It was bright red, with a fat, bloated torso and vast, leathery bat-like wings. It had horns like a goat, and cloven hooves like a goat, and its eyes were the flat, dead black of a shark. It was smiling, a wide, delighted smile. **Yes, monkey. It’s me. Orcus is back, with a vengeance!** Its voice reminded Zaerini of fangs ripping into raw meat. 

YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD, Demogorgon said, now sounding rather sulky. I’M SURE I KILLED YOU. YOU WERE VERY RUDE TO COME BACK.

**Ha! The true Prince of Demons cannot die, he will always rise again. Did you think I, the Lord of the Undead would be so easily bested? My essence drifted, yes, lost in the wilderness. Lost for a long time. And then, at long last, I came across a suitable vessel.**

Rini found herself staring at Boo. The hamster seemed perfectly unharmed, and if Minsc was startled or upset by this turn of events, he didn’t show it. 

A HAMSTER. YOU RODE ABOUT IN A HAMSTER. 

**A hamster traveling with a group of adventurers as they were gradually growing more and more powerful, slowly heading closer and closer to my goal. To this place. To you, my old nemesis. A little helpful nudge here and there, as I slowly began to regain my wits and my powers speeded up the journey somewhat.** There was a terrible smile on that vast, red face as the demon lord stepped closer to Demogorgon, his hooves clicking against the stone floor. **You will not stand in my way this time. I will have the title rightfully mine, and you will be dust in the wind.**

WE’LL SEE ABOUT THAT, LOBSTER-FACE. I WILL KILL YOU ONCE AGAIN, AND THIS TIME I WILL MAKE IT STICK LONGER. 

**Not if I kill you first, monkey-brain.**

With that, the two demon-lords leapt at each other, in a flurry of flailing tentacles, rending claws and angrily lashing tails. Within seconds they were tangled together on the floor, biting and clawing, all thoughts of clever tactics or devious spells forgotten as they gave in to their primal hatred for each other. The noise of the battle was horrible, and as Rini dodged out of the way of a spurt of black blood she saw it hit the wall next to her and scorch deep grooves in it. 

“The ritual!” Viconia yelled in her ear, the priestess’ nails digging deep into her arm. “Use it, before it is too late!” 

Startled, the half-elf nodded, hurriedly taking the scroll Milena had given her out of her pocket. It was true, she had no better option open to her. No matter which demon won, she didn’t want to bet on it being inclined to offer her hugs and cookies afterwards.

_Not that I want hugs from either one of them. Or cookies. They’d probably be baked with something really gross. At least right now they’re both distracted._

“Hurry up!” Sarevok shouted over the din of the battling demons. It was hard to tell, but she thought Demogorgon was beginning to gain a slight advantage over Orcus, having bitten one of his ears clean off and gained a chokehold with his tentacles.

She started reading, as fast as she dared without tripping over the words, and as she did, she could feel a power gathering around her. It felt as if somebody was holding her hands in a strong, yet gentle grip, guiding her, and there was a light shining from the scroll now, as bright a white as had shone from Milena’s face. It was growing brighter and brighter, and the demons had noticed by now. They were turning towards her, screaming curses to curdle her blood but she kept reading, kept saying the words, letting them fill the world, expand it, reshape it. Claws were reaching out for her, tentacles as well, and a wave of fetid breath that smelled like an open grave hit her nostrils and nearly made her gag. Still, she kept reading, speaking the final word even as the tip of a tentacle touched her shoulder, burning through her clothes. Then, she fell silent, and the light faded, leaving the cell dim once again. There was no obvious sign of the two demon-lords, but the huge chains were intact once again, and there seemed to be more of them than before. _Two sets?_ There were voices on the edge of her hearing, chittering furiously, but they were tiny and far away, the squealing of two rats trapped with nothing but each other for company. They could do nothing to her. Then all she could hear was her own ragged breathing and that of her companions. 

“See?” Minsc said proudly, patting Boo on the head. The hamster looked entirely normal, and not a little pleased with himself as he lay back with his legs in the air to let the berserker tickle his tummy. “Did Minsc not say that Boo would take care of everything?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I very much enjoy playing the long game, and yes, I had planned this out from back in BG1, when I made sure to mention the History of the Nether Scrolls. (The book is present in the game, and you do use it to get back into Candlekeep in chapter 6 but you need to identify it with a spell to see its name.) The enmity between Orcus and Demogorgon is canon, though of course I put my own spin on things. As for Boo, a Miniature Giant Space Hamster is of course perfectly able to cope with such a situation!


	32. Revelation and Rest

**Throne Of Cards 32 – Revelation and Rest**

_I have on occasion been accused by friends and compatriots of ‘trying to show off’. This is not true. There is no ‘trying’ about it. It is merely a happy side-effect._

_Excerpt from ‘Interview With An Assassin’_

“And is there anything I can do to entertain you, child? I could always relate a few educational religious tales of the Watcher, suitable for young minds.” 

“No thank you,” Dekaras said, as politely as he could manage. The boy was seated on top of the stairs leading up to the Watcher’s Keep main entrance, his arms tightly wrapped around his knees as he tried to keep track of the time. How long had the others been gone now? By the look of the sun, not very, even if it felt like ages. “Do you suppose you could turn the glow down a bit? It’s hard on the eyes.” 

Milena nodded, and her glow did dim, until he could make out facial features more easily, not to mention look at her without having to squint. “I know it is hard,” She said in a kind voice. “If preoccupied with a dangerous task, one is at least busy with the matter at hand. Waiting while others face danger is…a strain, is it not?”

He nodded, mutely. She was exactly right, of course. He knew he had promised to stay put, and he would, but it felt wrong. There was a strong and pervasive feeling, a feeling that he ought to be present in order to help. Logically he knew very well that he was only a beginner when it came to combat, but the twisting feeling in his guts told him that this was wrong as well. _I should be able to do more. I should…be more?_ Yes, that was it, even if it sounded strange it was also somehow right. 

“It is good of you to want to help,” Milena said, as if she had heard his unspoken thoughts. “And yet, somehow it is necessary to hold back and to rely on others to do their part. Learning when and how to do that can be difficult but is utterly necessary.” 

“Is this going to be a lecture?” Dekaras asked suspiciously. “Master Gorbia at the Guild always lectures me about ‘not deluding myself into thinking myself invulnerable’. It’s really very tedious, and the accident with the scaffolding and the snake could have happened to anybody.” 

Milena gave him a considering look. “Truly?”

“Yes! Anyway, there was something I wanted to ask about.”

“And what would that be?”

“Well, you heard me promise I’d have a go at praying to Helm?”

“Certainly.” 

“I could do that, but I might get something wrong. The Guild doesn’t go in much for religious education, after all. So, would he hear me if I just speak quietly in my head?”

Milena beamed at him, her light growing briefly brighter. “But of course, my child. Speak with the quiet voice of your heart, and He will hear all that you have to say.”

“Oh good. I was thinking I might start with chanting. Would He enjoy ‘Ninehundred Splatters of Blood in the Hall’?”

“Well…I…”

“I could do it backwards. Or wait, first forwards and then backwards?”

“I’m not entirely sure if…”

“Or” Dekaras said, smiling as angelically as he could manage, “I suppose you could ask Him if I could have a bit of a more direct word with him. You’re his High Priestess, yes? Or you were, before you died.” 

Milena…flickered. There was other word for it. Then, she was no longer there. To all appearances the small boy with the black hair was utterly alone at the top of the tower, only the wind ruffling his hair. And yet, there was a strong presence there, of somebody close by, somebody powerful enough they could push him off the tower with just a flick of their finger. It felt a little like the Imprisoned One had felt, but just the opposite. This presence didn’t feel as if it were about to crush his mind, but as if were giving him a curious pat on the head. 

PLEASE LEAVE OUT THE CHANTING. WHILE YOU UNDOUBTEDLY HAVE MANY TALENTS, SINGING ISN’T ONE OF THEM. 

The boy considered his options. He knew he probably ought to feel afraid, but somehow, he didn’t. Even so, it was probably best to start out at least relatively polite. _One of these days, I really must try to explain that properly to Edwin. You only insult them when it’s the better option in order to get your way._ That was a…strange thought. It made sense, and it was definitely him thinking it but it felt as if came somehow from outside. “Was Milena ever really there, or was it you all along?” He asked. 

YES. 

“Right. So, will my friends be all right?”

VERY LIKELY. THEY HAVE THE RIGHT TOOLS AT THEIR DISPOSAL AND NEED ONLY PUT THEM TO PROPER USE. 

“Couldn’t you have locked up the Imprisoned One yourself? Was all of this really necessary? Your dungeon isn’t really the most fun place, you know.”

NOT A FUN-GEON TO YOUR TASTES THEN, YOUNG MAN?

Dekaras gave the patch of air next to him a dark look. “While you undoubtedly have many talents, punning isn’t one of them.”

There was an actual chuckle at that. FAIR ENOUGH. AN HONEST QUESTION DESERVES AN ANSWER. THERE ARE MANY THINGS I COULD DO, BUT NOT ALL OF THEM ARE THINGS I SHOULD DO. IF I WERE TO MEDDLE TOO HEAVILY WITH THE PRIME MATERIAL, I WOULD DO MORE HARM THAN GOOD. I PREFER TO NUDGE CERTAIN THINGS IN THE PROPER DIRECTION. THIS LITTLE EXCURSION WAS ONE SUCH THING. 

“To get the Imprisoned One locked up again?”

I NEVER HAD ANY OBJECTION TO KILLING TWO BIRDS WITH ONE STONE, AS IT WERE. The voice sounded a little smug now. THAT WAS CERTAINLY ONE THING THAT NEEDED TO HAPPEN. 

“But it isn’t really why we came here though,” Dekaras said, as he thought things through. “We came here because there’s something wrong with me, or so they say. So, am I your ‘second bird’?” 

AH…WOULD YOU LOOK AT ALL THE PRETTY BIRDS OVER THERE? I DO BELIEVE I SEE A BLUE-CHESTED WARBLER. 

“Except there’s nothing wrong with me at all, as far as I can tell. I don’t feel sick. And it’s not about my magic, I thought that before but that was wrong.”

ARE YOU HUNGRY? THIRSTY? I COULD CONJURE A LIGHT AND YET HEALTHY SNACK. 

“And now you’re trying to distract me, so it’s obviously important. Why would it be that important to you? I’m hardly anybody who should matter to gods or powerful people.” 

NONSENSE! YOU GET THAT IDEA OUT OF YOUR HEAD RIGHT NOW, CHILD! I DEVOTE THE TIME AND EFFORT I FEEL NECESSARY TO ALL MY FOLLOWERS, GREAT OR SMALL.

Dekaras frowned at that. “Hold on…since when did I become your follower? I’d been thinking about gods yes, but I haven’t picked one yet. And I’d thought maybe I should…but I haven’t made my mind up yet, and I haven’t even talked to Poppy about it. So why would you say that, as if it already happened?”

DANG. I REALLY MUST TRY TO REMEMBER NOT TO UNDERESTIMATE YOU EVEN AT THIS AGE. 

“Even at _this_ age?”

OOOPS. ER, PLEASE DISREGARD THAT LAST SENTENCE…

“I’m supposed to be a different age,” Dekaras said, trying out the statement to see how it sounded. It sounded perfectly insane, and yet…it fit, didn’t it? It did explain why people acted the way they did, as if they remembered things he couldn’t. And it did explain that subtle feeling of wrongness that had been creeping up on him. “Please tell me I get to be tall when I grow up, I’m sick of being the smallest in the class other than Poppy.” 

OH, YES. ABSOLUTELY. 

“Do I learn how to do the Triple Backwards Flip?”

YES. ARE YOU NOT…UPSET?

“Why would I be? I can’t remember what happened, so what is there to be upset about? As far as I know I’m the same as always. I guess it was some kind of magical accident. Poppy will never let me hear the end of it if I tried on some magic ring or hat and did this to myself…” 

NOT TO WORRY, IT WAS BEYOND YOUR CONTROL. AND BEFORE YOU ASK, I CANNOT SIMPLY UNDO THE ENCHANTMENT. IT HAS TO BE COUNTERED WITH THE PROPER MEANS. 

“That book they’re fetching which they won’t tell me about. I understand.” Satisfied to see all the puzzle pieces fitting together, Dekaras got to his feet and started balancing along the top step of Watcher’s Keep in order to keep himself occupied. It was good practice, and it wasn’t as if he could fall very far if he failed. “Do you think I should tell them I figured it out? They won’t be mad?”

NO, BY ALL MEANS DO. PLEASE LEAVE ME OUT OF IT, HOWEVER. LET THEM THINK YOU MANAGED IT ENTIRELY ON YOUR OWN. I WOULD PREFER NOT TO HAVE THE TOP HALF OF THIS BUILDING DISINTEGRATED IF IT CAN BE AVOIDED. YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE HOW LONG IT TOOK TO GET THE LOOK OF IT JUST RIGHT. 

“Right. So, this is a ‘don’t tell Edwin’ moment?” 

QUITE SO. 

Dekaras pondered this for a moment. “Funny. Even if I can’t remember it, I’ve got this strong feeling that there have been a lot of those before…” 

-*-

It wasn’t too long a wait after that before a portal shimmered into a life at the top of Watcher’s Keep and a group of slightly disheveled, wild-eyed, yet apparently uninjured adventurers appeared. Dekaras anxiously scanned the group, but yes, everybody seemed present and accounted for, and nobody seemed to be missing any limbs. The slightly shocked looks on their pale faces were a little worrying though. 

“Are you all right?” He asked. “Did it work?”

“Oh yes,” Zaerini said with a shaky smile. “The Imprisoned One won’t be bothering us or anybody for a really long time, I think.” For some reason she gave Boo a side-long glance at this. The little hamster simply puffed up his cheeks and purred. 

_Are hamsters supposed to purr? Then again, I’m not a hamster expert, I guess._

“What of you?” Edwin asked, hurrying over to give him a cursory examination, turning him this way and that despite his protests. “No disasters, no calamitous stunts? (It’s not natural. He’s not ill, is he?) Did the annoyingly holy specter use her powers of tedium to pacify you?”

“Milena was perfectly nice,” Dekaras said with a long-suffering sigh. “We had an interesting talk, didn’t we, Milena?”

The ghost startled a little, and then nodded. “Why yes, so we did! And now, my work here is clearly done, so I must be off. Do practice your prayers diligently, child, and learn your lessons well. FARE THEE…I mean, fare thee well.” The priestess smiled and winked out with a flash of light. 

“So,” Dekaras said, keeping his voice as even and neutral as he could, “Now that’s been dealt with, do you suppose we could go and get me turned back to my proper age and shape now? It has been a while, hasn’t it?” Though he wouldn’t have ever admitted it out loud, the stunned looks on their faces filled him with a certain amount of unholy glee. _Worth it. Oh yes._ “My apologies if I spoiled the surprise,” He said. “But you have to admit, you never told me I wasn’t supposed to figure it out.” 

-*-

“So, Candlekeep,” Zaerini said, once information had been imparted and Edwin had calmed down some. She was hoping that everything would make more sense if she spoke the words out loud. “This’ll be a bit…awkward.” 

“How so?” Viconia asked. “It was your childhood home, was it not?”

“Oh yes. Sure. It’s just that the last time I was there, we didn’t exactly leave on the best terms with the people in charge.” 

“We’d been arrested,” Imoen helpfully added. “For killing Reiltar Anchev. It was pretty messy.” 

“And the man deserved everything he suffered, and more,” Edwin said, his eyes hot with anger. The Red Wizard had been in a somewhat worrying state ever since Dekaras’ revelation, staring mutely at the boy in a mix of concern and outright terror. Seeing him at least partially recover was a relief. “After what he did…”

“I enjoyed killing him,” Rini said. She shuddered briefly, remembering hands upon her, touching, prying…she shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut, forcing the memory away. She hardly ever thought about it anymore, and that was just how she liked it. “And yes, he deserved it, but it still got us arrested. Ulraunt, the old wizard in charge of Candlekeep, well he never really approved of me or Immy. Especially not me. He really jumped at the chance to get rid of me, so much that he even came down to the cells to taunt me about it.” She grinned. “Eddie broke his nose. I don’t think it’ll ever be the same again, healing or not. It was very sweet.” She gave her lover a fond look and felt sudden warmth bloom inside her chest when it was returned with a smile. “Well, I’m sure that explains why he won’t exactly open us back with open arms, Hero of Baldur’s Gate or not. And then there’s Sarevok.” 

“I did not take part in the slaying of my vile stepfather,” Sarevok rumbled. “A pity, I should very much have enjoyed it.”

“No, you didn’t, but the news about you trying to take over Baldur’s Gate and ascending to God of Murderhood is bound to have traveled back to Candlekeep by now. I don’t think the librarians will be rolling out the red carpet for you either, Big Brother.”

“It can’t be helped, though,” Imoen said. “We’ve got to get that book back, and you and I are the only ones who really know our way around the library.”

“You’re not going on your own,” Edwin objected with a firm look. “I will not risk having my Hellkitten ending up in that vile dungeon again. Hopefully we can get in and out with a minimum of fuss, but if that is not an option, I would see every single flagstone melted into glass rather than put up with that.” 

“So…a stealth mission it is then,” Rini said, patting the wizard on the cheek. “Sound good? Immy knows how to be sneaky, and I’m good with illusion spells, you know that.” 

“And I am a master of stealth and infiltration,” Sarevok proudly stated, banging his fist against his platemail. “Koveras the Humble Monk will strike again, and none shall see him coming!” He gave the others an offended look. “Why the snickers?”

“Minsc and Boo will help as well!” Minsc said. “We have never been to this place, so none shall suspect us, and Boo says I am very good at providing a distraction.” 

Rini gave Boo a slightly nervous look. The hamster did look entirely normal, yes. No fangs, no claws, no glowing eyes. Even so…. “Boo doesn’t have any more…passengers now, does he?”

“No, little Rini. He is only his normal Miniature Giant Space Hamster self.”

“Oh. Good. Awesome. As for you, Vadrak…”

“Yes?” Dekaras said, sounding quite eager. He’d thoroughly denied having any proper memory of his adult self, admitting only to having ‘worked it all out with logic’. Still, she wasn’t entirely sure she trusted him not to have just enough of an idea of what he’d normally be able to do that he might do something reckless. “Do I get to do the disguises? I like disguises, Poppy gave me a disguise kit for Solstice, and I’ve been practicing. I could try that makeup to make you look really ancient.”

_I think you’ve managed to make Eddie feel really ancient already._ Indeed, the wizard was getting red in the face, and she hurried to interject before he could open his mouth and start an argument. “Thanks, appreciate it, but I’ve got a special job for you, in a special place.” 

“What’s that?” 

“Why, it’s with a couple of good friends of mine. I hear the Druid Grove they’re currently staying in needs plenty of weeding and…and feeding the little birds. Things like that.” 

The boy gave her an utterly disgusted look. “You’re leaving me with babysitters again, aren’t you?”

“Yep,” Zaerini said with her best and brightest grin. “Suck it up, buttercup.” She took the opportunity to ruffle his hair, ignoring his dark glare. _I’m so making the most of this while it lasts, and hopefully he won’t kill me later._ “Don’t worry, you’ll love it there. It’ll be fun. And I’m sure Ano and Jaheira would love the chance to practice childminding.” 

-*-

“You did WHAT?”

Dekaras sighed, and pulled the furs he’d been given a little closer. He hadn’t exactly expected these strangers to be thrilled with the idea of having him foisted upon them, but the druid lady had taken one look at him, firmly told him to go sit down by the fire where he couldn’t hear much of what was going on, and then started shouting. She was trying to not be too loud, and it was true that he couldn’t hear much, but it was definitely shouting. Zaerini had a rather sickly smile on her face, and Edwin was steadfastly trying to avoid looking at anything but the tips of his own shoes. 

_It’s not fair, it’s not as if I asked to come here. If the others would only let me come along I wouldn’t be where I’m not wanted._

A small, hard head, covered with silky fur nudged the palm of his hand and he absently petted it, scratching between the soft ears. Softpaws purred loudly and squeezed herself under his arm to crawl onto his lap. The voices rose and fell, again and again, but no, he couldn’t make out more than the odd word. There were frequent glances sent his way though.

_I wonder if I’m supposed to know them? It’s so strange not to remember. Maybe I did something bad before, maybe that’s why she’s so angry about me being here._

The druid lady, Jaheira, certainly seemed on the brink of hitting somebody over the head with the smooth oak staff she carried. Now and then she shook her head in disgust as she spoke, making her golden-brown braids whip around her face. Her green eyes were narrowed in anger, and there were spots of colour in her cheeks. Now the tall man, Anomen, spoke. He was big and muscular, but seemed calmer than the woman by his side, and Dekaras hadn’t failed to spot the amulet of the Watcher hanging around his neck. _More Helmites. Let’s hope he doesn’t try to give me religious instruction._ While it would have been easy enough to think that he deferred to the woman, he said something in a soothing voice and she nodded, a little curtly but in clear agreement. There was respect there, between the two of them. More than that, Jaheira touched the rounded curve of her belly and gave Anomen a warm smile before she turned on Edwin again, pointing an accusing finger straight at his face. _Maybe it’s Edwin she’s angry with and not me?_ He edged a little closer, trying to hear something of what was going on. As if on cue, Insufferable popped up between his feet and chittered happily, drowning out the voices. _Of course._ Still, it was impossible to be angry with the familiars, even if they were ruining all his attempts at a stealthy approach. Softpaws had draped herself across his lap now, imperiously demanding belly rubs by batting his arm with her paw, and Insufferable had climbed onto his shoulder and was patting him on the cheek. “Oh, all right,” He sighed, using his spare hand to tickle the small monkey’s head. “Since you insist.” 

It was a while longer before the grownups finally finished arguing, and by that time he had to struggle a little to keep his eyes open and not nod off. Only his deeply ingrained aversion to falling asleep in an exposed place, visible to others, kept him upright and he had to fight back more than one yawn. 

“This should not take overly long,” Edwin said as the wizard hunched down before him. “We will depart for Candlekeep as soon as possible, and hopefully will be back tomorrow evening. Now, the druid assures me that as rustic and uncivilized a place as this is, there will at least be no wild beasts to be concerned about, nor any poisonous snakes. Can I trust you not to go looking for trouble or do I need to request she leash you to a post in the yard? (As annoying as she can be, it should be difficult enough to get past her.)” 

Dekaras thought about explaining that Rasheman probably held more wild beasts, spirits and other assorted wildlife than a city dwelling wizard could imagine, and that he’d run into his fair share, quite probably more than Edwin had. But he was, after all, very tired, so he settled for nodding. “I won’t go looking for trouble,” He said. 

“Good,” Edwin said with satisfaction, then reached down to give him a fond hug. “This is by no means a fully satisfactory environment, but I suppose it will do for a day, so try to get some proper rest. I…know this has been a trying time, but I promise it will all be over very soon.” 

“I suppose that will be good,” Dekaras agreed. It was hard to imagine what it would be like to be another, older self, but at least he’d have more of a sense of what was going on. _And I’ll be able to climb even better, I bet, even if I can’t use the smallest branches anymore. I wonder if I have a beard when I’m grown up, like Edwin does. That would be so strange._ He was just about to ask, when the yawn finally escaped him, and before he could get the chance, he was unceremoniously led off to bed. _Not fair. When I’m back to normal, I’ll stay up all night, just because I can. That will show them._ With that satisfying plan in mind, and a faint smile on his lips, he drifted off to sleep. 

The first time he woke up, it was still quite dark, probably after midnight but a long time before dawn. He woke up with a gasp, heart pounding, a still lingering sense of familiar terror twisting his stomach. He couldn’t remember exactly what the nightmare had been about this time, but that didn’t make the feelings less real. _I wish the dreams would just stop_ , he thought with a weary sigh as he twisted around and tried in vain to fall asleep again. Funny how he’d actually slept better inside Watcher’s Keep than here, really. _I wish they hadn’t left me here. I hope they come back soon._ Jaheira and Anomen seemed friendly enough, but he didn’t know them, or if he did, he couldn’t remember them. He lay quietly in bed, listening, but heard nothing but the normal little night noises outside the house. The druid grove was home to about a dozen druids working in tandem, some of them staying for longer periods of time, others shorter. While the font of power was apparently set inside a cave in a swampy area, the druids themselves lived further into the proper woods, where a few simple, yet sturdy cottages had been built. Jaheira and Anomen shared one of them, and he’d been given a cot in the main living area. It was warm and comfortable enough, but it seemed that sleep was out of the question, at least for a while. Usually when this happened it would take a couple of hours and he’d be tired and out of sorts in the morning. Most of the time he’d just wait it out, but if the dream had been a particularly bad one, he’d sometimes go seek Poppy out. She never complained about sharing her bed, and it always helped, but he didn’t like to wake her up often, so would save it as a last resort. _Well, she’s not here. I’ll just have to wait._ Maybe going outside for a bit would help? Sometimes fresh air did. He listened carefully but could hear no sounds at all from the bedroom, so the druid and the priest were probably both asleep. Possibly they’d object to him wandering about in the night, so he decided to make very sure not to disturb them. _I won’t go far anyway, and I’ll be back before they know I’m gone._ Being bone tired and wanting nothing more than to sleep and forget about everything else yet being unable to was making him feel a little lightheaded and almost nauseous. _Fresh air. Not being shut in. Yes._

He carefully edged out of the bed, decided to simply pull on his tunic on top of his night clothes rather than get fully dressed, and crept quietly across the floor. A creaking board took him by surprise, and he scolded himself for not having noticed it as he came in – he was supposed to pay attention to that sort of thing at all times. Still, it didn’t seem to have woken anybody up, so no harm done this time at least. Finally, he slipped out the door, making certain to close it properly behind himself. There didn’t seem to be any druids around to ask annoying questions, but there were a few low wooden benches sat in a loose ring around a communal fire pit. While the fire had burnt out, he could spot a few faintly glowing embers, and there was a lingering sense of heat. It seemed like a good spot to wait for a while until he hopefully could fall asleep again. 

Time passed, perhaps an hour, perhaps a little longer, and while he was just as exhausted as before and nearly ready to drop and fall asleep on the spot, he knew from past experience that the nightmares would be back. The tight, twisting feeling was still there, and his thoughts wouldn’t hold still, insisting on digging up stray memories he’d rather not be reminded of. Unless he wanted to go straight back to nightmares, he knew he needed to relax first, but he couldn’t seem to manage it. _Wouldn’t it be just typical if I’m getting bad dreams now about things I can’t remember because they haven’t happened yet…or wait, they have happened, but I can’t remember them because I’m back in time…or something._

That didn’t entirely make sense, and yet it somehow did. He had just about resigned himself to staying awake and probably being scolded in the morning for being inattentive and rude, when he heard something. There was a rustling, creaking sound from the bushes, and the sound of footsteps. Big footsteps. Not a rabbit, not a fox, probably not even a wolf. Then there was a flash of eyes, and a massive, hulking shape emerged into the clearing. _Oh. Bear._ It occurred to him that he probably should be afraid by now, bears could be very dangerous. At least he couldn’t see a cub, and he didn’t have any food it could be after. The next unpleasant and yet unavoidable thought that followed was that perhaps the bear would consider _him_ the food. _Maybe if I stay very still, it’ll go away._ Hopefully it would, because it wasn’t as if he could fight it off or outrun it and if he were to shout for help it just might be what made it attack him. Besides he was so tired by now that he could hardly bring himself to care. 

“You won’t try to eat me, will you, Sir Bear?” He whispered. “It would make your fur awfully messy, and I probably wouldn’t fill your belly very well anyway.”

The bear huffed and glared at him, looking rather offended.

“Oh. Lady Bear? Fair enough.” 

The bear snorted and ambled closer. Warm breath, surprisingly not too bad, hit his nostrils as the bear sniffed his face. It tickled enough that he couldn’t quite suppress a giggle. 

“Rowrf,” The bear declared, and nudged him with its broad forehead until he was pushed off the edge of the low bench. Well, it had started to get uncomfortable anyway so that didn’t matter. The huge beast lay down by his side, watching him closely with its small, closely set eyes, but it showed no sign of wanting to eat him. 

_Maybe I did fall asleep. If I did, it will probably turn into a nightmare soon enough and it will eat me then._

The bear was still staring at him. _Not a Scare Bear but a Stare Bear?_ The rational part of his brain didn’t think that was particularly funny, but it was in the minority by now, so he giggled again. “Sorry,” He told the bear. “It’s not you, it’s me. Don’t mean to be rude. I guess you’re not too unbearably hungry then?”

The bear didn’t seem to think this was half as amusing as he did, but at least it didn’t express its displeasure with its teeth. 

“Sorry,” Dekaras said again. “I can’t sleep, you see. Unless I already am, if that makes sense. But it’s all right, I have bad dreams a lot, so I’m used to it. Bears hibernate all winter, so I guess you wouldn’t be. It’s not so bad. As long as you don’t eat me, I’ll just go inside in a bit. They probably won’t notice anything in the morning or else they’ll just think I’m being moody and not ask about it.”

“Harumph!” The bear said. 

“No, really. I’ll just stay quiet and try not to bother anybody, so I don’t get into trouble over it. And I won’t tell anybody you were here if you don’t want me to, so you don’t get into trouble either.” 

The bear shook its shaggy head in what looked like sheer exasperation. Then its enormous paw scooped him up and pulled him closer, until he was closely nestled against a furry, warm flank. Unfortunately, he was also tucked tightly under the bear’s paw, and couldn’t get loose. Vague memories of having had a stuffed animal at some point when he was really little floated into his mind. He couldn’t remember what it had been, dog or cat, rabbit or bear, but he’d definitely slept with it in bed. Maybe bears did the same thing with humans then? It made an odd kind of sense. At any rate, his head was tucked against bear’s side so that the only thing he could hear was deep, rumbling breaths, and the thick fur and big body were very warm and…relaxing… 

“Good Morning.” 

The second time Dekaras woke up, it was to sunlight tickling his nose and making it itch. He made a considerable effort and just about managed to hold the sneeze back, although he suspected he’d probably made a fairly ridiculous face. Then again, that was how he usually felt about mornings anyway, so perhaps it didn’t matter too much. Reasonably satisfied with this thought, he sat up and tried to get his bearings. He was outside, on the ground, by an extinguished fire pit. He blinked as scattered memories from last night came back to him. _A bear. And it…and then I…but that surely wasn’t real, was it?_ There was certainly no bear to be seen now, and few enough people. He could hear distant voices and spotted one of the druids walking across the clearing carrying a pail of water. On a log next to him, Jaheira sat, apparently quite busy with putting the final stitches to a pair of very small leather shoes. She wasn’t looking at him, and that suited him just fine. He’d been entirely too tired to think about it last night, but now he was remembering just what abilities druids were known to have and the unfortunate but all too likely solution to the Case of The Devoted Bear was that perhaps there had been no bear in the first place. 

_Somebody just kill me now, please, before I embarrass myself further._

“Good morning,” He said, having quickly decided to apply his favourite tactic for dealing with mortification and pretend it never happened to begin with. “I…decided to sleep outdoors. Not that there was anything wrong with the bed, it just seemed like a good idea.”

“Certainly,” Jaheira said, nodding. Calm green eyes turned towards him, their gaze penetrating and he sat very still, forcing himself not to squirm even a little bit. “It was a warm enough night last night, so I have no objection. At least you had the sense to stay a safe distance away, and Silvanus knows I enjoy the night air of the wilds myself. I often go for a bit of a wander.” 

Dekaras mentally, and quite correctly translated this as ‘roaming the woodlands for hours’. “Will the others be back soon, do you think?” He asked, eager to change the subject. 

Jaheira pursed her lips in thought. “Not until this evening at the earliest, I expect,” She said. “Possibly not until tomorrow. I wish I knew what the girls were thinking of, taking up with…but never mind that, you would not be able to tell me anything about it.” 

Dekaras sighed. “Right now, I couldn’t tell you much about anything happening,” He said. “It’s getting very tiresome.” 

“No, I suppose not,” Jaheira said. She sounded angry again, just like last night, but when she spoke again there was warmth to her voice as well. “I would have attempted to reverse the spell if I could, but it is beyond my powers I’m afraid.” She held up a small boot. “I do not suppose you know anything about leatherworking? The heels don’t seem to want to turn out right.” 

“I never really studied it, I’m afraid,” Dekaras said, absently poking at the ground with a stick. “I tend to just buy whatever I need and…” He broke off and looked up to see Jaheira studying him again, quiet yet intent. "I don’t know why I said that. I don’t remember it, but it just seems…right.” 

“Remarkable,” Jaheira murmured. “Such strange magic. Well, as I said earlier, the others will hopefully return by nightfall. Until then, you may as well make the most of the day. The nearby woods are safe enough, there are no large predators here and the trolls in the swamp have all been run off. Do not go any further than the ravine to the northeast mind you, there are giant spiders nesting in the woods beyond it. Also, I would advise some care around the younger lycanthropes, they have not entirely mastered their transformations and can be a little rough when they play. Take some food with you if you intend to be longer than midday, and if you see Anomen, please let him know that I will require some assistance with rearranging some furniture. Your bed might work out a little better closer to the door, would it not? For ease of movement and extra comfort?” 

“Yes,” Dekaras admitted. “I suppose so. Jaheira? Should I get you anything?”

The druid blinked, looking momentarily nonplussed. “Get me anything? What would that be?”

“I’m not sure.” He rubbed his temple with his fingertips, trying to make sense of the flash of memory. Something to do with Jaheira’s slightly rounded stomach. A lady who was going to have a baby would want something, wouldn’t she? He felt quite sure of it, beyond a shadow of a doubt. “Strawberries out of season? Tar on a stick? The heart of a freshly killed wyvern? That last one was a bit of a…” He faltered, as confusing images flittered through his mind, too fast to follow, and then sighed. “Sorry. I don’t know why I said that.” 

“Never mind,” Jaheira firmly said. “I have no need for any wyvern parts, be they fresh, fried or pickled, and I want you to stay very far away from them, do you hear me?” 

“All right.” 

“Good boy. Off you go then and see what you can think of to entertain yourself.”

Soon enough, Jaheira would learn that this was the most fatal thing she could possibly have said under any circumstances.


	33. Stealth and Shenanigans

**Throne of Cards 33 – Stealth and Shenanigans**

_As much as I care for my siblings – well, some of my siblings – on occasion they make me want to research amnesia spells._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“Right, repeat after me. What kind of mission is this?” Zaerini put her hands on her hips and gave her friends and siblings a firm look. 

“Oh, I know!” Imoen piped up, waving her hand in the air. “A stealth mission! I’m gonna be the sneakiest and slinkiest and coolest, you’ll see.” She dug around in her bag. “I’ve got my lockpicks of course, and caltrops, and rope, and oil, and fake mustaches, and…”

“That’s awesome, Immy,” Zaerini said, smiling at her sister. “And yes, a stealth mission. What does that mean, Sarevok?”

Sarevok didn’t reply. The large man simply stared blankly into midair, an absent expression on his face. 

“Sarevok?” The bard waved her hand in front of her brother’s face. “Are you awake?”

“I do not know this ‘Sarevok’ of whom you speak,” Sarevok said. “I am Koveras, the meek and humble monk, looking forward to mingling with my fellow monkish brethren.”

“Oh. Ok, I guess I can understand about getting properly into a role. We’ll just see if we can find you a robe long enough this time, shall we? Vic, are you sure you’ll be all right?” 

Viconia nodded, pulling the hood of her cloak up to obscure her face. “I will stick to the shadows as much as possible,” She said. “Also, drow have excellent hearing, and I will keep away from overly curious inhabitants.” 

“Good. We want to attract as little attention as possible. Eddie and I will be in disguise of course, and Minsc…”

“Minsc will follow his Witch’s lead,” Minsc proudly stated. “And Boo’s, of course.”

Zaerini looked at Boo. The hamster was sitting on Minsc’s shoulder, fussing with his whiskers and apparently ignoring the conversation entirely. “Just try not to get into any fights,” She said. “Stealth mission, remember?” 

“I make no promises should we run into that…Ulraunt person,” Edwin said. He flexed his fingers briefly with an ominous smirk. “A broken nose isn’t nearly satisfaction enough for the way he treated you.” 

“Fair enough,” She replied, feeling warmth blossoming in her chest as she met her lover’s eyes. She winked at him. “Just…try not to blow up my entire childhood home, would you? Call me sentimental but I’d really rather avoid that. Let’s go then, I’ll try to land us right in my old room where nobody will see us coming. It’s small and out of the way, they probably haven’t started using it for anything important yet.” _And I can’t wait to get Vadrak back to normal. Then he can have the pleasure of organizing the next stealth and infiltration mission._ She gathered her thoughts, preparing herself to pull the Bhaalpower in and open the pocketplane onto a new destination. _Well, it can’t be as bad as a jailbreak in the middle of Rasheman. Or that one time when we got trapped in the Twisted Rune’s headquarter. Not to mention Ust Natha, ugh. This is just Candlekeep, how bad can it be?_

-*-

“Your room, little sister? It is somewhat smaller than I would have expected, and a fair amount darker. Also, there would seem to be a bucket on top of my head.” 

“Fine, fine,” Rini said with an annoyed sigh. “So, I landed us in the broom closet next to my old room. I’d like to see you do better. No wait, I wouldn’t, because that would mean you’d have killed me back in Baldur’s Gate and you’d be doing some sort of insane divine rampage across the countryside, drinking blood from the skulls of your foes and sticking spikes on everything. At least I didn’t land us in the dungeon. Come on.” 

She hurried to herd her companions into the proper room, very much relieved that there was nobody present to see them in the corridor, and also that her old room was not only unlocked but that it seemed virtually unchanged. True, it felt a lot smaller than it had used to, but that was partially due to large people with armour crowding inside it. Her old bed was still there, her desk and her small bookshelf, the chest which had held her few changes of clothes and some makeup Gorion had pretended not to know about, and…

Moving so fast she practically teleported on top of her bed, she suddenly found herself standing on top of it, arms spread wide and defensive to cover up the Thing on the wall behind her. “Nothing to see here!” She said, her voice suddenly sounding annoyingly squeaky. “Move along!” 

“What…is that?” Edwin asked, a mix of revulsion and amusement clearly present on his face. 

“Nothing, I tell you!” 

“Oh, that old thing,” Imoen said, her blue eyes sparkling. “Yep, Rini got it from a traveling merchant back when she was…about fourteen, I think? Gorion didn’t really approve but since she bought it with her own savings, he let her keep it. It’s a pretty good woodcut, isn’t it?”

“Immy, just shut up now, please?”

“I mean, you can almost see the muscles and things rippling and bulging,” Imoen carried on, her smile devilish by now. “Really lifelike.”

“If not entirely anatomically correct,” Viconia said with a brief sniff. “The Underdark is far better at this sort of thing. It is a pity I did not know you at the time, _abbil_ , I could have given you proper instruction.” 

Rini covered her face with her hands, certain her cheeks were about to catch on fire. “Guys…please…”

“What was it called again?” Imoen mused. “Hey, I remember! ‘The Rampant Stallion Who Humps the World’. Funny really that there aren’t any horses in it, I used to wonder about that for a while.”

“Perhaps that large fellow has them hidden in his loincloth,” Sarevok said. “Then again, it’s a very small loincloth, so they’d have to be miniature horses.” 

“Boo would like miniature horses! He could ride them into combat! In Rasheman, we believe that dreams can be caught and trapped by spirits, was Little Rini trying to trap a dream about horses by hanging this over her bed?”

“Undoubtedly it provided nocturnal entertainment of some sort,” Sarevok chuckled. 

_Kill me now, please. Or stick me back with the Twisted Rune, that’d be preferable to this._

“That will do,” Edwin said. Warm hands touched hers, gently pulling them away from her face, and she blinked as she looked into her lover’s dark eyes. “Hellkitten, this is a mere trifle and of no significance. Your annoying siblings are attempting to tease you that is all. But you have no need to hide from _me_. Never think that.” 

“Oh,” She said, feeling a little sheepish still, but otherwise much better. “I…suppose not.” 

“Besides, I had my own little…misadventures at that age. (The Adventure of The Gasping Concubines springs to mind.)”

“Mm, fair enough I suppose. I’ve seen your home after all, it’s only right that you should get to see mine, without doppelgangers this time. I just wish you could have met Gorion as well. I think you might have got on with him, actually.”

“Hm. I suppose that is possible. (After all, the man raised her to be the most glorious female on the face of the planet, so he cannot have been a complete incompetent fool.)” 

Viconia cleared her throat at this point. “Shall we get going then? Or is Edwin going to attempt to outdo the woodcut?”

“That’s for later, I think,” Rini said as she squeezed the wizard’s hand. “For now, let’s get suited up!” 

Illusion spells were all well and good, Zaerini thought, but they did take some effort to maintain, and it would be bad if one failed at an inopportune moment. She used one to temporarily make her bright red hair appear a more ordinary brown and did the same for her eyes. A small spell of obfuscation would hopefully keep anybody from looking at her face too closely and she put the final touches to her disguise with a loosely flowing and rather bright purple robe which would serve to both hide her sword and hopefully also her half-elf heritage. Plus, she had the idea that if anybody looked at her, it’d be the purple they looked at and remembered, not the rest of her. “I’ll be Minsc’s Witch,” She explained. “I know my impression doesn’t get the accent quite right yet, but it’s really unlikely we’ll meet anybody actually from Rasheman here and it gives me a plausible reason for wandering the libraries.”

“Minsc’s Witch is the best Witch ever, and he’ll lop the head off anybody who dares claim otherwise.”

“Right, thank you Minsc, but please try to avoid that. Now, Eddie…”

“…will certainly not be pretending to hail from that ghastly hellhole of a cesspit,” Edwin said with a disgusted curl to his lower lip. “The mere thought of it makes my blood boil.”

“Yes, but…you actually _do_. Hail from it, kind of. At least half of you.” 

“That is not the point!” Edwin made a lazily elegant gesture with his hand, muttered a few words, and his bright red robe turned a deep black. “There, that will do. As much as it pains me to hide my proud position, one does as one has to in order not to utterly petrify these peasants.” 

_Because a wizard in a pure black robe is ever so much less ominous than one in a red one? Well, he was only here for a very brief time, so let’s hope nobody recognizes him._

“Want a false mustache?” Imoen helpfully suggested. “I’ve got plenty!” The young rogue had changed her clothes as well, into more nondescript ones than normal, and she’d hidden her pink hair under a woolly hat. Not a pink one either, and she’d done something to her face with makeup, making her eyes look more sunken and her cheeks hollower. It wouldn’t fool somebody who knew her well, but it should be enough for the regular monks, guards and servants. 

“I have a mustache of my own, as well as a beard, and a magnificent one at that,” Edwin said, proudly stroking the appendage in question. 

“Yeah sure, but disguise, remember? I’ve got false beards as well. Come on, somebody has to use one! It’s traditional. Here, try this long, white one.”

Edwin rolled his eyes, but he did take the offered beard, and it actually managed to hide enough of his face as to make him pretty unrecognizable. Viconia discreetly pulled the hood of her cloak up to hide her face in its shadows, and that left…  
“Ok, ‘Koveras’. Let’s find you a monk robe. I know where the laundry room is, so Immy and I will go fetch you one. Stay in here in the meantime please and try not to attract attention.” 

“I will meditate upon the Oneness of All,” Sarevok stated, his eyes closed as he sat cross-legged on Zaerini’s small bed. She wondered if it would crack under his weight but decided that it was her brother’s own problem if that happened. “Koveras knows not the passage of Time, he merely passes through it.” 

“Um….good, I guess. We’ll try to hurry back.” Smiling what she hoped was an encouraging smile, Zaerini slipped out through the door and into the dimly lit corridors of Candlekeep. _Home, sweet home._

-*-

“And is this what thou callest ‘stainless’? Methinks thy competence is regrettably…lacking.” Zaerini wondered for a moment if she was laying it on too thick. Certainly, her fake Rashemani accent, far more exaggerated than Dynaheir’s, was enough to nearly make her tongue tie itself in knots, but that in combination with her haughty manner and the vivid robe seemed to be doing the trick. She pointed accusingly at the young monk manning the laundry room, making her sleeve flutter before his eyes just as Imoen snuck into the room behind his back. “Look! An accursed stain, here! The blood of some disobedient and ill-mannered dolt, I do not doubt.” She pursed her lips. “Thou art not ill-mannered, art thou? I do so disapprove of that.” 

“My…my lady,” The young monk stammered. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’ve never seen you before…”

“Irrelevant! If it wast…was not thou, then it was one of thy equally incompetent compatriots. In fair Rasheman, such negligence wouldst be most heavily frowned upon.” Behind the monk’s back she saw Imoen hastily digging through the laundry baskets, frowning in concentration. Just as expected, the robes so far found had all been too small to fit Sarevok. “He dost not remember!” Zaerini exclaimed to the heavens, throwing her hands wide in mock despair. “The impertinence, the negligence! Why, next thou wilt suggest thou hast not cleansed the hamster-pouch.” 

“The…the…”

“The hamster-pouch! It needs proper rinsing, the creature dost not always signal when it is ready to eliminate, and I do not mean its favoured mode of attack. Dost thou know nothing…what is thy name?” 

“Er…Ron, my lady. But my apprentice name is ‘Flow’, since I work the laundry and…”

“Silence! Thou knowest nothing, Ron Flow. Nothing.” Behind the bewildered Ron’s back, Imoen was signaling a ‘thumbs up’. Rini nodded decisively. “I am deeply disappointed, but I will forgive it for the sake of thy youth and general ignorance. I expect the hamster-pouch to be thoroughly rinsed upon my return, mind. And I wilt…will be bak.” The accent nearly did her in on the last line, it felt like she was about to choke on her own tongue. _Bit too much maybe. I’ll see if I can persuade Vadrak to give me lessons when we get him back to normal. Still, it seems to have worked._ To be sure, Imoen was in the clear, one giant monk robe tucked neatly under her arm as she slipped away around the corner. _Step one. Let’s hope it all goes this smoothly._

Originally, Zaerini had planned to take the same route back to her old room that she had taken to get to the laundry-room. However, she spotted a couple of monks who had been closely involved in her tutoring standing near the staircase. They were apparently quite preoccupied with their conversation, but she thought it best not to pass too close by them anyway. _Not after all the hours they spent nagging me about the most basic things. Honestly, sometimes I think they were ready to instruct me in how to walk from one point to another, or…or open doors or climb stairs._ So, she and Imoen took a turn, passing through the main library to get to the larger stairs leading back up. She kept to the edges and the shadows as much as possible, but also took care to glide along with an expression of slightly bored indifference on her face. _I am a Witch of Rasheman. I was raised to rule, and I fear nothing and nobody here._ To be sure, nobody paid any attention to her or to Imoen, and she was just about to turn the last corner and head up the stairs when she spotted it. There was a smaller room to the side, off the east wing of the library. She vaguely remembered it as keeping collections of very dull memoirs before, or at least she’d thought them dull at the point. So why was the door now closed and barred, and why were there two very large monks standing on either side of it, keeping watch? 

Then, the door opened, and a familiar and highly unwelcome person walked out. At first, she thought Ulraunt looked just as sour as she remembered him, but then she realized she was mistaken and the impression was created by his nose, still oddly shaped after Edwin’s past treatment of it. The old man was in fact looking uncommonly pleased about something, as pleased as he’d been to see her in a jail cell under Candlekeep. The thing she could just about glimpse under his elbow before the door was closed told her why. The room had been cleared out, the ordinary bookshelves all gone, but it wasn’t entirely empty. In the middle of the floor, on a raised dais, stood a large glass case, and inside the case, on top of a red velvet pillow, an old book rested snugly. There wasn’t time enough to look closely at the book, but there was time enough. She’d seen enough of it at the time, when Edwin would barely let it out of his sight. It was definitely ‘the History of The Nether Scrolls’, and there was definitely a spider web of lethal magical wards crisscrossing the air around the glass case. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard some noise from inside the room as well, thumping and shuffling as if something was moving about in there. Whatever it was, it seemed unlikely to be friendly. 

_Well, Immy and I used to boast there was no place in Candlekeep we couldn’t get into if we really wanted it. She swept up the stairs, purple robes fluttering grandly behind her. Time for our final exam._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really love a good heist movie, and I hope you will enjoy my version of one.


	34. Stampede And Spirituality

**Throne of Cards 34 – Stampede And Spirituality**

_It is a very natural thing for the young to want to explore their various gifts and talents before they settle down within a chosen field. Obviously, this should be done within suitable perimeters and given proper guidance. Otherwise, you should take care to carry a big stick._

_Excerpt from ‘Interview With An Assassin’_

Dekaras had never really thought about druids very much. Rasheman was brimful with nature spirits and magic, but the _Wychlaran_ ruled there, and Thay wasn’t exactly famous for its druid groves either. So as frustrating as it was to have to wait for the others to come back, he decided to make the best of the situation and have a good look around. Some of the druids were too busy with chores to talk, and the one he found sitting immobile under a tree with his eyes closed turned out to be ‘meditating on the Cycle of Life’. Dekaras learnt this after he’d spent a good while trying to attract the determinedly calm man’s attention, first by politely addressing him, then by flicking his fingers under the druid’s nose to try to make him stir and finally by aiming a pinecone directly above his head. It wasn’t meant to do any harm and just as intended it only hit the tree trunk, but unfortunately this led an old bird’s nest to fall on the druid’s head. The young assassin found himself chased off with a stick while the previously serene druid shouted something about wanting to ‘recycle him into mulch’. 

He eventually found refuge with one of the younger druids, an apprentice of perhaps twelve years. A skinny boy with long legs and messy, straw-colored hair, Teren as he was called, was only too happy to get some help collecting firewood from fallen branches. 

“I only get to chop anything if I’ve looked all over the place and can’t find enough deadwood,” Teren complained. “It takes ages and ages. I thought being a druid meant being able to…to summon fire spirits and call lightning and turn into animals, but noooo, it’s all ‘Teren, fetch some firewood,’ ‘Teren, cook the morning meal,’ ‘Teren, water the ecologically evolved strangling vines around the camp’…” 

“I know what you mean,” Dekaras solemnly agreed as he dug out a nice branch from under a bush. “They won’t let me do anything much either, back home. You should have heard Master Gorbia go on, just because I was trying to build up my immunity to poison. It’s not as if I got _that_ ill. How am I ever supposed to learn these things if they won’t let me experiment? So, what do druids do when they’re not fetching firewood or sitting around pretending not to notice you?”

“All sorts of things,” Teren said, a little self-importantly. “I can’t say too much, some things are only for the Initiated.”

“So, you don’t know?”

“I do too! There are different ways you can go about being a druid, that’s all.” He proceeded to explain that other than your regular, basic druid, there were also what might be best described as specialist sects. There were Avengers, who were especially good at shapeshifting and could manage forms beyond most druids, along with some magelike spells. Then there were the more feral druids, utilizing a specialized form of controlled lycanthropy. “I’m going to be a Totemic Druid though,” Teren explained. “They send you out in the wilds to find your own special spirit animal, and then you can summon it to fight for you.”

Now, this sounded interesting, Dekaras thought. Actually, it also sounded familiar. The clans of Rasheman tended to have totem animals as well, although those were for the whole clan, not just one person. Even so, it sounded like something he wanted to try. _I don’t see why it should be just druids who can do it either. I’m sure I can figure out how it works, how difficult can it be?_ Having asked Teren just a few innocent questions, he eventually excused himself and set off into the woods. 

Remembering that he had promised Jaheira to keep within certain perimeters and not to get into trouble, Dekaras at first kept reasonably close to the grove. He found an interesting river, with clear and swiftly streaming water, and white foam dancing around the slippery wet rocks sticking out of it. A great deal of enjoyment was had from climbing back and forth across those rocks, particularly once he found a nice one in the middle of the river where he could sit on top of it like a rider on a horse and watch the river go by. Vaguely, he wondered if the adults would disapprove of this form of entertainment, but then he dismissed that idea. After all, adults disapproved of just about everything entertaining, so how was he supposed to tell? _And I know how to swim, and I’m good at climbing, so I’m keeping my promise and not getting into any trouble._ Satisfied with the logic of this chain of reasoning, he went on with his game for a while, until the rock started to get a bit cold. Besides, there didn’t seem to be any good options for spirit animals around here. Summoning a spirit fish just sounded too ridiculous, and while he thought he’d seen a water snake go by, that didn’t feel right either. It had to feel right, Teren had stressed that. Once he crossed the river, he found plenty of things to look at and explore, including some trees that made for climbing practice and he spent some time bouncing on a good branch some way up. This was a regular game though, and he certainly wasn’t about to settle for a squirrel or bluebird as his totem animal. No, that wouldn’t do at all. So, he continued on for a while, until he finally reached a ravine, with steep sides that made even small noises echo, and a few stunted trees at the bottom. This had to be the ravine Jaheira had mentioned before. Well, he’d promised not go beyond it, and he’d keep that promise of course. He’d just rest here for a little while, and then start circling back to the Grove. Satisfied with this plan, he found himself a nice, flat rock in the sun, and settled down there. The sunlight was just warm enough, relaxing his limbs and he yawned briefly. Very nice, this. Warmth, solitude, quiet. Warm, golden light, gradually turning a deep wine red as his eyelids fluttered close, and then faded…to…

Black. 

He startled awake with a small gasp, his heart thumping hard in his chest and his breathing quick and ragged. He didn’t remember the dream, not this time, which was probably for the best. For a few confused moments he didn’t know where he was, nor if he was still dreaming and when he finally calmed down enough to get his bearings he didn’t feel entirely reassured. It wasn’t completely dark yet, but the golden haze of the afternoon had deepened into purple twilight, and the air was definitely cooler than before. _They’re going to be so mad at me. I’d better hurry up and get back._ However, there was still the matter of the spirit animal. He hadn’t had the time to find one yet, and he really hated leaving a plan unfinished. How to best go about it, though? He needed inspiration. 

There was a faint noise, far off in the distance beyond the ravine. An eerie, haunting noise, a sound to chill grown men to the bone. Dekaras sat up straighter, an eager glint in his eyes. _Yes, of course. That’d be perfect, wouldn’t it?_ He remembered now what Jaheira had said, about lycanthropes hunting the woods at night, and how he shouldn’t go too close. Well, he wouldn’t, certainly not, but there was nothing wrong with taking advantage of the inspiration, was there? Of course there wasn’t. So, he flexed his shoulders experimentally, to loosen up, and straightened his back. He focused as much as he could, because that’s what Teren had said to do. You apparently needed to really feel the spirit animal inside you, or it wouldn’t come. He closed his eyes and concentrated as hard as he knew how. Songs in the twilight, silence on the hunt. The swift kill, the warmth of the blood, the closeness and strength of the pack, yes. _I want it._ He took a deep breath, leaned his head back, and….

“Awroo!” 

The sound was…not quite as impressive as what he would have hoped for. If he was to be entirely honest with himself, it sounded more like an eager wolf cub than a fully grown animal and as for striking fear into the hearts of men he thought he could do with a bit more practice. Still, it was a start. Surely his spirit animal would appreciate the effort and appear all the same? He listened intently. Something rustled at the top of the ravine, and a few small pebbles tumbled down the steep cliff walls, but that was it. He howled their hunt, but they were heading off, not coming his way. _Louder, then._ This third time he thought he was getting better, he was still entirely too high-pitched and not as fearsome as he’d have liked, but he managed quite the satisfying echo along the ravine. Quite pleased with himself he stood, hoping to see a ghostly spirit wolf appear. And even if it doesn’t, this was still fun. Now there was definitely a noise from the top of the ravine. More pebbles falling, brought down as something moved about in the bushes up there. Then there was a noise, an angry ‘BLAAAAARRRTT!’, and rocks went flying as an enormous, dark something thundered down the cliffs, heading straight towards him, head lowered menacingly. 

There was no time to stand around, no time to even think about what he was doing. Dekaras suddenly found himself as far up a tree as he could get without even remembering how he’d got there. _Squirrel spirit animal after all?_ He vaguely thought, and then there was no time to think at all. The tree was unfortunately rather small, with thin branches that just barely bore even his slight weight, and a trunk that bent and swayed as the furious creature below him head-butted it. The beast was enormous, taller than a tall man across its broad back, with angry little red eyes and wide, spiky horns. It kicked at the tree now with its strong legs, and he had to cling on for dear life in order not to fall off. _Moose. Very big moose. Diremoose. Very big, very angry diremoose. Very angry at me for making scary noises. Maybe this wasn’t one of my better ideas._

“BRRRRARRRRRGH!” The diremoose roared, head-butting the tree’s trunk again, and this time it didn’t just sway, it creaked. As Dekaras looked down, he saw splinters flying, and he thought the tree was starting to lean just a bit. _Oh. This is bad. I mean worse._ The tree shook again, and he just barely managed to grab a tighter hold on the tree with arms and legs, much like a treed bear cub he’d spotted once when he was little. _Jaheira will probably eat me alive._ The tree shook again. _If the moose doesn’t kill me first._

“Stand aside, foul beast, in the name of the Watcher!” 

The diremoose’s large, shaggy head swung around, the animal distracted at the sight of a tall figure in armor shining as brightly as the full moon. Anomen was charging towards it, his shield raised. The moose snorted angrily and pawed the ground, and then there was a mighty crash. A cascade of blue sparks flew from Anomen’s tall shield and there was a clang as of a hammer striking an anvil when the diremoose rammed into it, horns first. Anomen stood firm, but his knees buckled, and although the diremoose staggered aside, shaking its head in pain, it still looked just as angry as before. Dekaras watched, his heart in his mouth, as the beast charged again. This time the shield faltered slightly at the violent impact, and Anomen was driven to his knees. Another vicious kick hit the side of Anomen’s chest, just as the man slammed his mailed fist straight into the side of the moose’s head. “Brrrayyyrrgh!” The diremoose complained. Its eyes crossed and its knees were shaking as it staggered off along the ravine, having clearly decided this fight simply wasn’t worth it. 

_No. Oh no._

Dekaras slid down the tree, completely ignoring the splinters sticking in the palms of his hands and the way his legs felt as if they’d turned to water. Anomen lay motionless on the ground, his face pale and still, his previously pristine armor dented and scratched. A small trickle of blood ran out the corner of his mouth. 

_This is my fault_ , Dekaras thought as he knelt beside the fallen man. _My stupid fault._ This wasn’t something he could run away from; he would have to face the consequences. I deserve it too. He pulled in vain at Anomen’s slack arm. “Please,” He whispered. “Please move. We…have to go.” But Anomen didn’t move, and he fell back, feeling black despair choking the breath out of him, chilling his fingers and toes. “I’m so sorry,” He whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. “So sorry.” 

“Well you DAMN well should be, you little fool!” The boy fell backwards with a startled squeak as Anomen’s fingers twitched, bright and soothing light spreading underneath them towards his body. The cleric sat up with a groan, the colour of his face already looking healthier. “Helm’s Holy Halls, that hurt,” Anomen muttered. He cast a second healing spell, and then a third one, before he finally got to his feet. He was…looming, and the dark look on his face didn’t bode well, not well at all. “Just what was this little adventure intended to accomplish?” He thundered. Dekaras carefully edged backwards, until he ended up with his back towards the battered treetrunk. _No, it doesn’t matter. I deserve it anyway._ “Never did I think I would utterly agree with that wizard on anything,” Anomen went on, the buckles on his battered armour creaking as he walked closer to the cowering boy. “But I think now I should have followed his suggestion and kept you on a leash, or possibly in a cage! Have you no sense at all? Have you got a death wish? Was it not enough to get yourself lost in the woods; must you then compound it by provoking murderous monsters? Murderous monsters that the druids insist on calling ‘peaceful fellow inhabitants of nature’ so that I must fight them off barehanded for fear of a score of bearded, scruffy, twig-haired dirt scratching archdruids huffing and puffing at me for days on end? Why, I ought to…”

Dekaras was no longer listening. He had closed his eyes again, gripping his knees tightly with his arms as he waited. This wasn’t something he could run away from or fight back against. He didn’t deserve that. Hopefully it wouldn’t take too long. He waited for the first blow or slap, biting his tongue to keep from crying out. It didn’t come. _Why is he making me wait? What is he doing?_ It was quiet, too quiet. All he could hear was the wind in the treetops, and the cleric’s labored breathing. 

“What are you doing?” Anomen’s voice was still sharp, but he didn’t sound angry anymore, not exactly. Dekaras looked up at him warily. The cleric was frowning, looking a little baffled, and then he sighed, his face pale. He swallowed briefly in disgust. “You thought…no. Helm’s mercy, no. I am _not_ my father, do you understand? I would never harm a child, I swear it. I was merely worried, that is all.” He let his hands fall to his sides and sat down with a brief groan of pain. “I promise.”

“Your father?” Dekaras asked, once he’d reassured himself it wasn’t a trick. 

“Aye,” Anomen said with a twist to his mouth. “Lord Cor was at least good for one thing. He taught me what I did not want to be, and perhaps it was in part he who drove me closer to the Watcher. I do not plan to include him in any evening prayers of thanks, mind you.” He gave the boy a penetrating look. “Now, what was this about?”

“I’m sorry,” Dekaras said again, hanging his head as he was reminded of his error. “I didn’t mean for all of this to happen. It was all an accident.” He was briefly reminded of similar sessions back at the Guild. Master Gorbia didn’t believe in corporal punishment, no. Some of the other senior assassins could be easily provoked to violence when you got in their way or disturbed them however, and he’d always been good at provoking and disturbing. He briefly explained this to Anomen, as well as what he’d been up to in the ravine. This was already embarrassing enough that he didn’t think it could get any worse. 

“I see,” Anomen finally said. Then his moustache twitched with a smile. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I think it would be entirely unnecessary to inform Jaheira of the full details of this little adventure.”

“You do?”

“Yes. After all, it would be fairly shameful for me to have to admit that after battling dragons and demons I was trampled by a moose, even if it was a diremoose, and even if it was in a good cause. Also, it would be a shame to make Jaheira agitate herself needlessly. After all, we are both safe and sound.” 

“Right,” Dekaras said, daring to smile quickly at the priest. “Perhaps if I were to tell her that there was a whole herd of diremoose? A full stampede, and you fought them off bravely? I’m good at stories.”

“Are you now?” Anomen nodded, his smile widening. “Of course, the Watcher doesn’t approve of fibbing, I feel I must point this out. Unless it is for a good cause, perhaps.” 

“Oh, I know that. I definitely remember it sounding and looking and feeling like a full stampede. I wouldn’t have been surprised by anything less, would I?”

“Certainly not. I wouldn’t have been laid low by anything else. Yes, it is all coming back to me now. We must remember to give thanks to Lord Helm for allowing us to understand each other so well.” 

The cleric held out his large hand, and the boy put his small one in it. 

“Agreed?”

“Agreed.”


	35. Chapter 35

**Throne Of Cards 35 – Marks And Misdirection**

_Improvised sleight-of-hand is fun, but the longer cons are especially thrilling. The one hidden secret to them is this: No matter what you’re looking at, it’s exactly what we want you to see._

_Excerpt from ‘Ruminations Of A Master Bard’_

“Most certainly, sir Mordred,” Ulraunt said with a self-important smile. “This recent acquisition of mine…I mean of Candlekeep’s, is a rare tome indeed, and I should be delighted to show it to an upstanding member of…the Society of…”

“The Order Of The Black Cloaks,” Edwin sneered, although the effect was somewhat diminished by the false beard that was obscuring a great deal of his face. Still, the thing was doing what it was supposed to, at least. _Perhaps the pink imp does know a thing or two after all._ “It comes as a surprise that a supposed wizard of knowledge and learning should be ignorant about us. Then again, some certain few of our activities are not for the narrow of view or faint of heart.” His smile turned malevolent. “Did you know that one of my colleagues recently invented a spell to make an entire castle…disappear? And you will address me as ‘Wizard Mordred’.”

“Disappear?” Ulraunt said, sounding both skeptical and slightly worried. “That is surely impossible!”

“Interesting that you should say that, as it was the first word out of the king’s mouth when he came home from a leisurely stroll. Now, about that tour…”

This was all going rather well, Edwin thought as he trailed along after Ulraunt, his black robes billowing impressively behind him. A few credentials, carefully forged by his beloved, the right attitude from Edwin himself, and Ulraunt was practically eating out of his hand. Why, he barely had to make an effort at all. 

_Don’t worry about acting the part_ , Zaerini had told him with a quick flash of a smile. _We will tailor the part to fit you, instead. Just be yourself. Well, more or less be yourself. Don’t set anything on fire, and we’ll be golden._

Yes, so far it was all working beautifully, and there was no need to inform anybody that ‘Wizard Mordred Of The Black Cloak’ had been the name of Edwin’s character in many a game of ‘Wizard in The Dungeon’ played with his father all those years ago.

“Here we are,” Ulraunt stated as he stopped before a massive door. Two very tall, very muscular monks were posted on either side of the door, staring straight ahead and scowling. There had been other monks patrolling the closer hallways as well, Edwin had noticed, but these two looked as if they could crush a man’s skull with just their pinky finger. “It is kept under careful guard, of course, as befits the most precious object in my…Candlekeep’s collection. Would you believe it that some fools gave it up simply for entering the Keep? Ha ha!”

“Ha.” Edwin said, quietly grinding his teeth. 

“Open up,” Ulraunt told the monks. They unlocked two big locks, each of them simultaneously using one key on one lock, and then pulled the doors open, allowing the two wizards to step inside. “Now hold a moment,” the Master of Candlekeep warned. “Allow it to accept you as my guest. It will attack any humanoid entering this room unless they are accompanied by me.”

“It?” Edwin asked. All he could see, the thing that was filling his vision entirely, was the book. The glorious book, the ‘History Of The Nether Scrolls’, the object of his desire. It sat on a raised dais, on top of a fluffy red satin pillow, and it was covered by a glass case. Thick glass, probably not easily broken. For a moment longer he allowed himself to stare at his prize, but then he saw what Ulraunt had been speaking of. He had thought it to be a pile of leftover scrolls and mangled books, unceremoniously stacked in a corner and not worthy of attention. Now the pile was…moving. It was rising up, unfolding itself and taking on a definite shape. Paper legs, bulky paper torso, tiny paper head, and paper arms ending in sharp paper claws. “A golem?” He asked. 

“Are paper golems not known by the Order Of The Black Cloaks?” Ulraunt said with an annoying little smirk. “I assure you; it is very useful. Now, you may think it is a feeble thing, weaker than a golem of clay or stone, but you would be mistaken. Allow me to demonstrate.” He took a small piece of bread out of his pocket. “Boy, show what you can do.” Then he threw the bread. There was a flash of white, a sharp ‘rrrtsh’ sound, and a few crumbs fluttered to the ground. “I am told a death by papercuts is exceedingly unpleasant,” Ulraunt mused. “As you can see, this paper is treated to be both strong and sharp, and since it was made from tomes of magic it makes the golem entirely resistant to spells as well. Fire could be a danger, but if the heat of this room rises too high the alarm will go off, the doors will automatically shut from the outside and the entire room will be flooded with water. Any thief attempting such a thing would be drowned like a rat. Impressive, no?” 

“Impressive,” Edwin grudgingly agreed. He peered at the case containing the book again. There were quite a few magical wards in the air surrounding it, and he could tell that they would slice an unsuspecting thief neatly in parts. But this was what not was captivating his attention. He stared at the case itself, trying to take everything in, down to the tiniest detail. _Let’s hope they are getting this._

-*-

“Are you getting it?” Zaerini said. The redhead was sitting on the bed in her old room, focusing on keeping the spell steady. It was a complicated, and yet elegant little illusion, something she had been working on in what little spare time she had. Anything Edwin was seeing and hearing could be transmitted to Insufferable through the familiar link. Anything Insufferable received that way could be sent on to Softpaws through whatever weird space all familiars occupied before they were summoned. And anything Softpaws received would be passed on to Rini herself. All the spell needed to do was make it visible for the benefits of whoever needed the information. _Such as our resident thief._

“Getting it loud and clear,” Imoen said, looking as pleased as a cat who just got into a jar of cream. “Keep talking Ulraunt, yeah, give it to us baby…”

“Ugh, don’t say that! Talk about horrible mental image. I need to concentrate to keep this up.”

“Heh, sorry. Eddie’s doing a good job scouting the place though.”

“So, we’ve got the guards, the locks, the golem, the wards…”

“Pressure plate traps on the floor. Anybody standing close enough to the case to touch it will set off the alarms. Another pressure plate on the case itself, lifting it up will remove the pressure and set off the alarms. Magnetic traps along the room’s perimeter, anything metal brought inside the room will…”

“…set off the alarms. So, ix-nay on the ockpicks-lay.”

“Yep. Oh, and another trap on the pillow. It’s weight sensitive. Any sudden shifts in amount of weight on the pillow and it’s curtains for the unprepared burglar.”

The girls looked at each other, eyes twinkling. 

“Well then,” Zaerini said. “Good thing we’ll be prepared.” 

-*-

All in all, Nialos Sevenar thought he’d landed a pretty cushy job. Yes, it sometimes involved late-night duty, but the food was decent, the shifts weren’t any longer than he could manage, and the number of times he’d seen real combat could be counted on one finger. Thieves as a rule had the mentality of a magpie and would go after shiny objects like gold or giant emeralds, not old books. And such thieves as truly understood the worth of some of Candlekeep’s rare tomes were also likely to be clever enough not to attempt to burgle one of the best defended fortresses in all of Faerun. There were hidden access ways all over, to allow guards to rapidly circle in on a thief, there were traps and wards constructed by the finest craftsmen available, and most of all, there was secrecy. Nialos knew how to avoid the traps along his set patrol path, but there were other parts of the castle where he knew better than to venture uninvited. No, the most danger he would be likely to find himself in would be death from boredom. His route involved one of the lower parapets, as well as a couple of stairwells and corridors, and that was it. Nothing had ever happened there, and nothing ever would. 

“Good evening, soldier.” 

Nialos startled for just a second, but then he stepped forward, hand on the hilt of his sword. The slender woman was standing right outside the door to the stairwell, a dark silhouette against the deepening blue of the sky behind her. Then she stepped forward, moonlight shimmering in her dark hair, hands folded demurely into the sleeves of her mage robe. A recent guest to the Keep, he thought. 

“I’m sorry, my lady,” He said. “The area above is restricted from visitors.”

“Oh, is it really?” Her voice was quite pleasantly accented, he thought. Very exotic. “You must forgive my ignorance, Rasheman has a vast amount of wilderness but very few fortresses of such splendor as this. I’m afraid I’ve got quite turned around on my way to my quarters, with no idea of where I am. It is my first visit, after all.” 

“Of course,” Nialos said, stepping forward. “Even so, I’m sorry, but you must leave at once.” She looked peaceful enough, but that could be a trick, and his training had been thorough enough to warn him of such things. 

“Peace,” The woman laughed softly, raising both her hands, palms toward him. “See? No weapons. Look closely, as closely as you like.” 

Instinctively, the guardsman took a step closer, his attention drawn by the woman’s pale hands as she stretched and flexed her fingers rhythmically. Closer. Closer. 

There was a sudden flash of bright, white light, and Nialos staggered backwards, eyes streaming. Though he was utterly unable to focus properly on the accursed witch in his half-blinded state, he still had his sword, and he started to draw it, opening his mouth to call out an alarm. Just then, there was a touch on his shoulder, a slender yet strong hand, and as he spun around his entire field of blurry vision was filled by a pair of wide eyes, glowing ruby red in the twilight. 

“Be quiet and be still,” A commanding female voice told him, and he was. Disobedience was utterly, utterly out of the question. His arm lowered to his side and he placidly awaited his next command. This new woman had skin as dark as the night itself and shining hair like silver. In the farthest corners of his befuddled mind something was screaming a warning at him, telling him that this meant something, but he couldn’t remember exactly what right now. A soft mist had settled into his brain, filling it with complete and total calm. “Good,” The dark woman told him, and he was so pleased that she approved, so very pleased. “Now come along. We have much work to do.” 

-*-

Meanwhile, in a different part of Candlekeep, a young monk by the name of Averic Mentas stood proudly at attention outside a very large, and very important door. Averic didn’t know exactly what was inside, only that it was extremely important and valuable, and that he should defend it with his life. Averic, unlike some of his colleagues, was extremely keen on extra duties, seeing them as his chance to advance and make a name for himself as long as he could impress his superiors. His robe was always freshly ironed, his bald skull had been carefully polished, his prayer beads were worn from diligent recitals of the ‘Prophecy of Alaundo’ and his mind was filled with harmony. Well, it _had_ been filled with harmony until an hour or so ago when he had been joined in his solemn duty by a monk he couldn’t remember seeing before. 

“So,” Averic tried again. “What have your previous duties been, Brother…Brother…”

“Brother Koveras,” The other monk proudly stated. He was a giant of a man, tall with broad shoulders, so wide that his robes looked fit to bursting. His shaven head certainly followed all regulations, but there was something about his eyes that was outright unnerving. Now and then they actually seemed to be glowing in the dark. 

_Perhaps he is an Aasimar? They have glowing eyes, don’t they? It would make sense that a holy creature such as that would find his way here._

“Brother Koveras, yes, of course. Now, about your previous duties…”

“I have stridden the world like a giant, bathed in the blood of my foes and defied the very pits of damnation!”

Well, that made sense, Averic thought. Some people simply couldn’t behave themselves in even the most revered of libraries, so yes, some of the librarians needed to be of the brawny sort. He himself was stern about his morning exercise and took a certain guilty pride in his nicely defined torso. 

“I hear you, Brother,” He said. “This one time, a scholar actually attempted to steal one of the tomes in my charge and gave the feeble excuse of ‘wanting to copy it’ despite such things being strictly forbidden without permission. I fear that despite my best attempts to be gentle I left him with two broken arms.” 

Brother Koveras stared into the distance for a moment, not responding. Averic tried to see what he was looking at but saw nothing apart from the shadows between the tall bookshelves and some patrolling monks in the far distance. “Did you hear that?” Brother Koveras boomed. 

“Hear what?”

“A noise, a sneaky, scurrying, stealthy, silent noise!” 

“But if it’s silent, how could it be a noise…”

“I have EXCELLENT HEARING, lowly worm! Do not question Sa…Koveras!”

“But…”

“There could be thieves afoot, I tell you!” Koveras was grabbing Averic by the collar of his robe now, eyes blazing, practically lifting him off his feet. “And you know what thieves do, do you not, insignificant scum…I mean revered Brother.”

“Erg?”

“THEY TAKE THINGS THAT BELONG TO OTHER PEOPLE!” Koveras shouted in his face. 

“Urgh! Urgh urrrrrrgh…”

“Oh,” Koveras said, suddenly letting go of the choking monk. “My deep apologies, Brother. My natural monkly zeal got the better of me. Even so, we are duty-bound to make entirely sure that nothing is amiss.”

“How…” Averic wheezed, trying to catch his breath and blink away the little floating specks of light from his field of vision. 

“We must open the door behind us,” Koveras said, banging his fist against his chest for emphasis. “Only then can we be sure no wicked thief is hiding within. If they are, we shall slaughter them.” 

Well, that sounded…reasonable. It was true, they had a duty to guard against all intruders. “Very well then,” Averic said. “On the count of three.” They took up their positions, each by one of the large locks situated on either side of the door. The locks needed to be unlocked at the same time and were set so far apart that two people were needed for the task, an extra safeguard against thieves. “One, two, three.” The keys turned, the locks clicked, and the door swung open. Averic took a careful look inside. “See?” He said. “No thieves at all, nothing at all amiss.”

“Of course, Brother,” Koveras said, smiling. “Everything is just as it should be.” 

The door swung shut and was locked again, and Averic entirely failed to hear the soft ‘plop’ inside the treasure room. 

-*-

Safely hidden behind a bookshelf and under an ‘Improved Invisibility’ spell, Edwin gleefully rubbed his hands. Despite Sarevok’s ridiculous failure at anything remotely resembling Edwin’s own subtle ways of acting a part, it had worked according to plan. The door had opened for long enough, providing him with line of sight into the room, and time enough to cast the spell. Well, it was more of a cantrip really, a childishly basic trick, but it had been modified to replicate itself for as long as the magical matrix held steady. According to Edwin’s calculations, that should provide 123 copies of the original, and that should be more than enough. 

_Done_ , He informed his familiar through their mental link. _Tell them that they can start moving in._

_All right, Boss! The pretty cat lady is asking how long?_

_Tell her approximately a quarter of an hour. Also, tell her that when this is done, I look forward to heroic celebrations of my masterful magic feat._

_She says ‘Good’ and then, well…better go to imagery for the rest, Boss._

Edwin smiled blissfully as he walked away. 

-*-

It was a good thing, Zaerini mused, that she knew the layout of Candlekeep as well as the back of her hand. Otherwise, she’d have had to resort to studying maps of it for hours, possibly stealing the maps first, and while she didn’t doubt that she could have pulled it off that all seemed extremely tedious. As it was, she knew exactly where to go. She and Imoen silently pointed the way for Viconia, who in turn directed the mentally dominated guardsman as easily as a sheepdog herds a sheep, if more quietly. Minsc followed behind, happy to let his Witch lead the way. They progressed up the stairs, easily reaching their first obstacle, the guardroom halfway up the tower. Their own guard wouldn’t have a patrol route going further than that, but they needed full access, all the way up, for the plan to work properly. Unfortunately, there were two guards stationed in the guardroom at all times, with a complete view of the stairs. Invisibility might sort that out, but that wouldn’t mask sounds, and while she trusted that she, Imoen and probably Viconia would be able to move silently enough, the same couldn’t be said for Minsc. So, she’d had to come up with a different plan. She nodded to Viconia as their group crouched just out of sight around the corner from the open door to the guardroom. She didn’t hear Viconia’s soft command, but she could see the charmed guard twitch as it overrode his own will. He marched into the guardroom, and if the way he walked was a little bit stiff and his eyes were a bit glazed, she didn’t think the guards would notice. 

“Hey, what’s up?” She heard a voice from inside the room. “Your shift isn’t over yet, is it?”

“No,” The Dominated guard agreed. “I just had to tell you lads about this thing I saw. It was…amazing.”

“More amazing than the sight of my own bed?” A third voice chuckled. “Been a long, dull night.” 

“Yes. There’s a naked she-elf dancing in the courtyard, doing some sort of crazy moon-ritual or something. You wouldn’t believe the sight!”

“Ha, you’re having us on! This is payback for the bedsheets, isn’t it?”

“It’s true. Have a look through the window, I bet you can see her from there.”

There were a couple more scoffing comments, but then her sharp ears could pick up the sounds she’d been waiting for, two pairs of heavy footsteps moving in the direction of the window, their backs conveniently to the door. 

_Nighty night._

The sleep spell released smoothly, and the two guards, practically hanging out of the window, never saw her coming. They crumpled to the floor, snoring already. 

“You,” Viconia told the remaining guard. “You will sleep as well, a full eight hours. Sleep now.” The last guard landed on top of the other two. 

“So far so good,” Imoen whispered as they closed the door to the guardroom behind them, locking it with the key they’d filched from one of their unconscious victims. “There should be a last one above us.”

“On it,” Rini said. She shifted into her catform, and slunk up the stairs, Softpaws trailing along just behind her. There he was, just coming down the stairs above her. Softpaws darted out just in front of him with a loud ‘Mrowr!’, making the man startle and curse loudly. 

“Oh for…” He muttered to himself. “Just a bloody cat…” Unfortunately for him, he’d been so distracted that he’d failed to notice the second cat slipping past him, or the faint draft of wind as that cat became a woman once more. 

_Tag._

She didn’t really hit him very hard, she didn’t want to seriously hurt anybody here after all, but it was still enough to make him stumble and fall for real this time, straight into the arms of Minsc who was waiting below. There was a ‘Clonk’ as a large fist connected with a head. 

“That should be the last one,” Zaerini said. “Vic, make sure he’ll live, won’t you?” She turned to her best friend and sister. “Immy, you ready?”

The pink-haired girl grinned, her eyes bright and sharp. “Ready to fly, sis.”

-*-

In the treasure-room, the paper-golem wasn’t curious at all about what was happening. It was programmed to attack all humanoids with no hesitation, but there were no humanoids here. Only a small, white, furry creature with red eyes and long ears, watching it curiously. There was a soft ‘plop’ and there were now two furry creatures. Then four. Then eight. Little swirls and eddies of magic floated about them as the rabbits did what rabbits do best, and multiplied, again and again. Still the golem remained oblivious. Finally, once the floor outside the warded area had become a seething mass of fluffy bunnies, the animals all turned as once, heeding some silent command. Red eyes fixed on the golem as they hopped closer, baring teeth admirably suited for gnawing.

-*-

Finally, it had all come down to this. Imoen felt simultaneously giddy with excitement and nervous enough that her heart seemed to have lodged herself in her throat. The others had all done their parts, but now it was all down to her. Well, mostly all down to her. Still, she knew she could do it. She’d come a long way since filching sweets from the kitchens or small change from visitors who looked like they could spare it. She took a deep breath, trying to center herself. 

_Focus, Imoen._

The room they were in wasn’t the treasure- room itself, but a storage room situated directly above it. Moderately valuable old scrolls were stored here, hence the guards, but the security was nothing like what she’d face in the room below. It was a good thing the floor was planks, and it had been easy enough to remove a couple of them, making a hole large enough for a slender girl to slip through. 

“Ok Minsc,” She told the ranger. “Don’t drop me, please, big guy?”

“Minsc will hold steady, Little Imoen need not worry. Even the Hordes of Hell would not make me lax!”

“Um, good.” Imoen tested the knots a final time. It wasn’t so much a single rope as a complicated rope harness fastened around her torso and pelvis, and she thought they seemed just tight enough to hold her firmly without strangling her. _Still wish I could have asked Vadrak about the Halfway Horseknot though. That’s one I never got much chance to practice with._ Well, she’d just have to hope she’d learned enough. _Final exam, Imoen._ “Go ahead, Minsc.” The large man nodded, and carefully started lowering her down through the hole in the floor. _Final exam. I won’t flunk it._


End file.
